Remember
by Golden Lark
Summary: Tokiomi summons a red Archer for the Fourth War. - Chapter 12: Interrogations, infodumps, and expositions.
1. Chapter 1

Remember

By Golden Lark

A [Fate/Zero] + [Fate/Stay Night] crossover.

_Author's note, 2/29/2012_

_Hey guys. Just got this up on yesterday, and this morning I tweaked a lot of formatting issues. This story is initially released on spacebattles' creative writing forum, and the newest chapter will always be there first. Chapters there are 'soft,' still susceptible to crazy editing or corrections for canon, etc. My thanks to all the spacebattlers that have helped so far, and will help in the future. _

_If you catch any screwed up spacing or first-person thoughts here on FFN that aren't italicized, please let me know via review or whatever. I even found spots where random spacing and characters were dropped wholesale from my import. Ugh. I think I caught them all just now but I can't be sure.  
><em>

_Anyways, thank you for reading_.

* * *

><p>Prologue<p>

The Throne of Heroes, being what it is, can only be described in metaphor. As such, the hero Emiya sat and read. His 'room' consisted of a single hallway with rows and rows of bookshelves, and piled books stacked here and there on a tatami-mat floor as far as he cared to look. He sat on the floor, unmindful of any discomfort, and finished the last few pages of his current book. Without words or expression, he tossed it onto a growing pile somewhere in front of him and reached behind his back for another.

He felt a 'ping' in the back of his head, and glared as another two dozen books materialized on the distant shelf across from him. As he existed outside the flow of linear time (from the perspective of any place he would be summoned), so too did he exist inside it (from the perspective of the Throne of Heroes). As he read each 'book' and 'lived' another mission, he gained some small scraps of knowledge or experience. Normal Heroic Spirits were 'volunteers' as it were; if Alaya saw fit to summon them, they were free to reject the offer. As such, they were offered jobs very rarely- jobs that they would either be able to complete with perfect efficiency, jobs they would be very personally interested in doing, or both.

As a contracted Counter Guardian, his will didn't even enter into the equation. If a mission came up that he was the most qualified for, he was copied and deployed. When the mission completed, the copy would dissolve and a new book would appear. As he read more books, he slowly became more 'qualified' for more missions. Even he could find some small amount of black humor in the fact that he was now a mindless RPG protagonist, endlessly grinding levels. Having eschewed such distractions as 'pointless wastes of time' as he was growing up, it was fitting he was locked into such a cycle now.

Arrayed on the floor around him were many stacks of 'finished' books. At first glance they seemed scattered haphazardly, but if one had asked Emiya, he'd have (almost proudly) explained his organization scheme: each pile of books represented a similar time and place. As he was summoned into infinite possible parallel worlds, he had mapped out the general 'distance' from his own native point of origin, and arranged the books relative to his 'spot' as such. Missions from possible futures from a world like his own were all in his direct field of vision. To his left, missions from less likely futures. To his far right were two large piles; probable pasts and improbable pasts. Directly in front of him, a conspicuous empty spot lay bare; a place for a hope he dared not have and a wish he dared not make.

He grabbed the next book and sighed. It would never end. He was keeping count of how many innocent vs. guilty people he had killed so far since his ascension. Accounting for statistical significance and margins of error, that ratio actually held at 100%. He opened the book.

He closed a book, heard a pinging sound, and all was black.

_Here we go again._

But instead of being 'dropped' to his deployment point, he was . . . handed off. And then the oddest sensation. As if he was a liquid in a pitcher, and he was being poured into a series of bottles and being placed into a six-pack. However, he didn't quite fill four bottles, and the sixth bottle was already full of . . . something else. The 'machine' handling him didn't hesitate, and proceeded to fill the 5th bottle and the rest of the fourth bottle with the 'other' liquid, cap the bottles, and stamp the box 'Archer'.

_Oh._

_OH!_

Suddenly he 'knew' what was going on. The rest of the deployment, no, summoning went on, and he was kneeling in a circle crackling with power. He stood, eyes still closed, and was compelled to say-

"So, you're my Master?"

Well, that's not what he was compelled to say exactly, but it was what he allowed to come out of his mouth. He opened his eyes, and made eye contact with . . .

. . . a man in red. His mind kicked into gear immediately.

_That whole time might be a blur to me, but I doubt I'd have forgotten . . ._

A well-dressed man in red, who was giving him a slightly quizzical look without quite meeting his eyes.

_. . . a joker with that kind of fashion sense. Who dresses like that here in -click- the 90's? Wait. _

A well dressed man, in red, who quickly reassumed perfect composure and graciously bowed.

_This can't be. But it is. And if this guy summoned *me* then the only person he could possibly be is-_

An impeccably dressed man in red, bowing, while discreetly palming a gem and charging it with what was ostensibly a one-shot defensive spell. A man wearing a very particular ruby pendant, who said-

"Indeed. I am but a humble magus, one Tokiomi Tohsaka of the three founding families of the Holy Grail War ritual. If I may have the honor of knowing how to address . . . "

Emiya -_Wait, no, Archer now_- had a thousand thoughts at once.

The 4th War.

The fire.

Kotomine.

Saber.

_Kiritsugu. _

Hundreds of possibilities, dozens of potential courses of action. He frowned and looked down, and saw . . . a small container with what appeared to be a snake's shed skin in it.

_Oh._

He had done his research. And now he knew what Tokiomi had been expecting.

_Well, you don't always get what you want. This will be fun._

He looked back up, and gave Tokiomi his best bow right back at him.

"Servant Archer, at your service, Master." - In a form of politeness to match Tokiomi's, no less.

"Ah." Tokiomi straightened up. "Actually, I was merely attempting to confirm . . ."

Apparently Tokiomi was completely psyched to grovel before the Servant he had expected to summon. All the way down to the level of not daring to presume to make direct statements and implications to his face.

_Amusing, in its way, but a waste of time. I had planned this for Rin, but if the daughter takes after the father enough, it should work._

"Actually, Master, I can't seem to remember my name." Archer smiled slightly. "Perhaps there was some mistake made in the ritual?"

Tokiomi did not flinch, but bowed once again.

"That is certainly a possibility, as I am less than worthy of invoking your presence."

Archer had already seen the pendant, but now he made a point of noticing it.

"Ah, there it is. Look."

Tokiomi stood again, and saw Archer pull out his own ruby pendant. He blanched slightly.

"But that is-"

"Indeed. The catalyst that you intended to use was centered in the summoning circle, but the one that was actually activated was off to the side, around your neck. A mere coincidence, and no mark against your abilities. The location probably corrupted the ritual, slightly. I feel as powerful as ever, but there are many things I cannot seem to recall."

_If he buys that, he is every bit as Tohsaka as . . . Tohsaka. Right, that made sense._

Tokiomoi's subservient act wavered just a bit as he considered what he had been told. As he had never previously done the ritual or seen it before with his own eyes, he had no way of knowing for sure if that was actually the case. He mentally grimaced. Once again, at the most important time . . . no matter. Maintain composure, maintain control, and no one will even think to question.

"In that case, I apologize. Please, allow me to lead you to the quarters we have prepared for you for the duration of the War. Do not hesitate to point out anything that is not to your liking." He went on as he moved to lead Archer to said room on the top floor.

_Well, he kept his head better than Rin would have if I used that line on her. If I have the time, I'll try to make him lose it, just once. Actually . . . _

"Master, you should relax. You look as if you just narrowly escaped death." Again in the same overly polite tone.

Tokiomi was measuring his response, but before he could speak-

"I mean, who were you expecting? Gilgamesh?" In his normal, ruder casual mode of speech.

The almost inaudible choking sound Tokiomi made as he walked past made this entire Grail War nearly worth it for that alone.

* * *

><p>***Chapter 1***<p>

"And finally, this is my apprentice and assistant, Kirei Kotomine."

"Kirei . . . Kotomine, is it?" Archer let the name gently roll off his tongue.

And then, slowly, he smiled, as if he had just opened the most wonderful Christmas present.

Kotomine began to sweat.

After leaving the summoning chamber, Tokiomi had lead Archer on a short tour, stopping by his room, the living room, the library, and the various doors of the house. He made sure to mention in passing which magical defenses Archer would need to worry about in human form and in spirit form. Lastly, he groveled a bit and verified everything was to Archer's liking. After that he called in his apprentice.

"I assume, Master, there is some reason why you have a rival Master here in your home?"

Kirei flinched slightly at that, as his hands had been folded behind his back, and Assassin was in spirit form.

"Indeed, Archer. We are to be allied for the duration of this War."

"This changes things. I had already developed a preliminary battle plan based on what I gleaned from you and your home. Now, half of that is wasted. Allies can be compromised, bases can be infiltrated.

He gave Kirei a critical glance.

"What Servant did he summon, and do you have any more surprises for me? I want to get on reconnaissance as soon as possible."

"Ah, well, in that case, allow me to explain in detail." Archer shifted his gaze at the new voice as Risei walked into the room.

Archer stood with his arms crossed, frowning.

"That . . . is your plan?"

Tokiomi shifted slightly, expecting the worst. Risei just stood as serene as ever. Kirei held his tongue.

"Kotomine-kun, do you have any input?"

Kirei exhaled, inhaled, and responded.

"It is not my place to-"

"Nonsense. You are a Master in this war. Your tactical opinion and input are every bit as valid and necessary if we are to cooperate. For that matter, so is your servant's."

Kirei sighed. From a cloud of darkness emerged Assassin, who promptly bowed. Kirei considered what he knew so far.

"If there is a flaw in this plan, it lies in the assumption that Archer would detect Assassin's infiltration attempt at all. There is no need for Assassin to be in physical form at the point in the plan where he is to be killed. Assuming I am the Master of Assassin, I wouldn't have made such a tactical error. It would have clued in the more savvy of our opponents that something was -" Kirei stopped mid-sentence and tore his faze from the ground. Archer was smiling and nodding, Tokiomi looked as composed as ever, and Risei's smile seemed to have toned down a bit, just as he had feared. "Father, I-"

"No, Kirei. Archer is right. It's our fault for not considering both your experience and erstwhile reputation. Assuming the enemy can't get information about -you- is a mistake that falls into my hands. As it is, Archer, do you have any alternatives?"

Archer's smile turned slightly predatory.

"You mentioned you had multiple Assassins?" He glanced at the present one.

"Yes, Servant Archer," it replied.

"Let's move to a big enough room." He started walking.

Tokiomi hesitated, then asked "Big enough for what?"

"I need to see the Assassins. All of them."

A few minutes later, after the Assassins all were recalled from various recon duty, the all found themselves standing in a line in the main hallway for inspection. Archer walked down the line, considering each, finally stopping as he came eye to eye with one. A glance up and down, and he nodded his head.

"You'll do. Keep this one around, plus another one of medium build. The rest can go back to recon. Now, I need to know, what happens when you take that mask off?"

A few hours later, and it was the next morning. The modified plan was in place, and Kirei made his 'official' exit from Tokiomi's care. Archer had a free day to scout the town (and get some civillian clothes) without running into too much trouble. He had given Tokiomi some homework to do, and Kirei was busy being scarce. Risei had informed him that Berserker, Rider, Saber, and Lancer were already summoned. Saber and Lancer were still 'out of bounds.'

_Good. The Berserker class being what it is, I won't run into him during daylight hours. That leaves Rider. At this stage, with virtually zero possibility of ambush or surveillance, if it comes down to it I could probably just pull out all the stops and use a modified Operation Hercules. I doubt it will come up, but for a first battle it would be quite convenient. _

He had, over the course of his "time" on the Throne, assembled a series of plans to almost certainly defeat each enemy Servant from the 5th War. These plans were not directly applicable to the 4th War he found himself in currently, but with some modification the strategies were all still valid. For example, his original plan for dealing with Hercules. He knew he had virtually zero chance of winning that fight in a one on one battle. However, Archer had no qualms about immediately playing his trump card in that situation. It was how he usually operated as a Counter Guardian, after all. A Holy Grail War usually made that move less than tactically sound, but the opportunity cost of revealing his identity would have been more than made up for by removing that player from the field. This, of course, followed the assumption that any Servant nearby while he fought Hercules would have joined in on his side.

Now dressed in a snappy black dress shirt and pants he picked up during his trip, he walked the streets, trying to reconcile his memories of his hometown with the decade-earlier version he was submerged in. It was harder than he'd thought. His favorite perch on the tower didn't exist yet. There were still plenty of high spots, however.

_Operation Arturia is still possible in some form, then. _

The one plan that was still perfectly applicable in this War was his framework for dealing with Saber. It was no exaggeration to say that she was the primary yardstick he measured himself and all physical threats to himself against. Over his years of life he slowly gained experience and power, but it wasn't until after his contract with the World that he finally gained the insight into himself necessary to say he could defeat Arturia without fail.

Ah, he was getting off track.

He reflected on the last few hours and shook his head. He always had trouble poking fun at (or, as he preferred to think of it, performing psychological reconnaissance on) people when they were grouped together; at least, before he had enough dirt on them to jab at mental sore spots. Tokiomi was nigh unreadable; however, he knew Rin well enough that he was sure he'd pry the father open in time. Father Risei was . . . dangerous. A vetted mediator of the War, one who showed no nervousness whatsoever in the presence of a Servant.

Kirei seemed to have no idea what was going on. He was nervous, vaguely insecure, utterly unwilling to contradict his master or father, and pretty much out of his depth. More importantly, he lacked any obvious sign of the elements Archer would have considered key aspects of the man he knew as Kotomine Kirei. The piercing insight, the mullet, the callous commentary, and above all else, that damned smile.

This Kirei was still just a kid, compared the the Kotomine he remembered. A real piece of work, if his initial impression held, but still just a kid, mentally. Totally subservient, without any will or drive of his own. Any dreams he may have had were crushed out of him- or never existed in the first place. The perfect environment for . . . whatever Kirei eventually became, to take root and grow.

Yeah, Kirei would be fun. But for now, he had more important things to do.

In any case, none of those obsolete plans (but Saber's) were relevant until he knew the current roster of Servants. He had originally planned to do serious searching for whatever Servants were available, but Assassin was a welcome helper in that regard. That left him free for more 'casual' activity, and one more important thing: he needed to get used to the idea that he was Tokiomi Tohsaka's personal video camera. As Tokiomi happily acquiesced to his demand that he stay safe at home for the duration of the war (he apparently already planned on doing so), so too did that mean he'd literally be watching through Archer's eyes the whole time he was awake. Since the war was fought in earnest at night, Tokiomi was going to be sleeping during the day, if much at all.

One wrong move, one right -misunderstood- move, and a command seal would hit him.

With utterly no chance to react. He wouldn't even see it coming until it was already done. Thankfully, Tokiomi didn't seem the hasty sort. Double thankfully, he thought of a perfect solution for the second problem. That was Tokiomi's homework. A little something Rin had shown him a long time ago- in-ear synchronized crystal amplifiers. Specifically, ones that would phase in and out with his body as a Servant.

Basically, walkie-talkies with gems and magic.

Tokiomi was surprised by the suggestion but saw no problem with it; by the evening they would have reliable two way audio communication. He already had such devices on hand, he just needed to tweak them so Archer's gem would phase out when he went into spiritual form due to his connection to his Master.

Finally, he needed to secure a method of transportation. He had no doubt he'd be visiting Einzbern Castle at some point, and he really didn't want to run. Unfortunately Tokiomi's cash budget was limited; he mostly relied on his pre-existing stock of reagents and gems. Liquid assets were, as with Rin during his youth, scarce at best. The existing cars were also not options, as they were properly licensed and registered in Tokiomi's name.

Oh well, nothing that a few projected swords and some seedy pawnshops couldn't handle.

Heh.

The real fun would start soon.

Evening approached and his new mental map of the town was more or less complete. He had taken a minor risk by keeping his Structural Analysis magic active for a good portion of the day; anyone trying to sense magic would have noticed him, but in return he got a wonderfully complete map of the current state of the sewer system and other indirectly accessible places. He had his basic recon finished, and now had a list of potential sniping spots. As the sun set he started heading back towards the Tohsaka estate. On his way there he took a detour and swung by his old home.

It was a wreck.

Not one to be completely irrational and clean up the mess, he nevertheless felt the urge to do something. Mow the lawn. Re-tile the roof. Fix the windows- _No. NO. It's not my home._

_And if I have any say in the matter, it never will be._


	2. Chapter 2

All the Servants had manifested, and the War was ready to begin in earnest. All was quiet in front of the Tohsaka estate, its fountain elegantly distributing streams of water.

Until it exploded.

More accurately, a bolt of energy shot down from the sky at an angle and exploded. Fragments of rock, plaster and other debris scattered around and fires began in various patches of the yard. Into this inferno strode a hellish figure in red, bow in hand. His face was obscured by a very ornate looking helm, but no one would mistake him for anything but the Servant Archer. He strode through the now-destroyed defense grid like nothing, and just as he was about to reach the door spun and nocked an arrow. He twiched his bow and knocked what appeared to be a throwing knife out of the air, then bucked forward and fell on his face, five more protruding from his back.

From the shadows behind him strode Servant Assassin, whose expression was unreadable behind his skull-like mask.

"Pathetic. Is this the best you could have done?" He unceremoniously produced a knife and cut off the head, helmet and all, of his fallen foe. Blood spattered and the helmet rolled down into the crater where the fountain used to be. Assassin stood back up, and gave a short bow. As he faded from view, he let forth one final taunt to the watchers.

"Would anyone else like to challenge my shadows?"

No master approached the Church to seek sanctuary that night, and the Grail War went on.

The next evening, Archer crouched on top of a building. It was, currently, the highest point in town. He had monitored the city as best he could, but his view wasn't ideal for seeing most of the more distant streets. None of the mattered, however, when he caught sight of someone who could only be Saber.

Memories flashed in his head. The night in his shed. The figure in the moonlight. The face he thought he'd never see again. He shook his head suddenly to snap himself out of his nostalgia.

She was escorting . . .

_An adult Ilya? No. This would be . . . Irisviel. But why is Saber with her?_

Hundreds of possibilities flashed in his head.

_Assume Kiritsugu is as good as I am. _

A dozen possibilities remained.

_Remember, he's just a self-proclaimed magic-user, not a mage._

A combination of decoy, prana-battery, and Saber-management system. Perfect.

_I couldn't imagine the old man getting along with her anyway. This explains much of why he 'won' regardless. Wait, but Irisviel would be the . . ._

Archer blanched a bit as he understood just what this cheerful woman with Saber represented with regards to Kiritsugu.

_I need to confirm some things before I act. As such, I have to assume Kiritsugu is operating on the precise level I am. This changes everything. _

He watched as Irisviel played a bit in the water, and then stopped as Saber became aware of something and called her back. She was looking in the direction of . . .

_Tch. The shipping docks. I have no angle. I can move faster in physical form, but . . . _

He was still technically dead, as far as the other Masters were concerned. He was absolutely intent on cashing in that check at an opportune time. For now, needed to move.

Lancer and Saber's duel was proceeding in earnest. Archer was on top of the nearby crane in spirit form, looking over the scene. From here he could see everything, including Kiritsugu lurking in the shadows. Kiritsugu and . . . someone else. A woman. Both armed, and drawing a bead on Lancer's Master. What neither of them could see was the blob of what looked like mercury sitting inertly behind said Master.

The crashing and clashing of weapons ceased for a moment as Saber and Lancer exchanged more words.

_Heh. Chatty as always. Real heroes can afford to be talkative, I guess. Time for work. _He ducked behind the framework and materialized. Three swords appeared lying next to him.

_This part needs proper timing . . . and wind measurement. A waste of prana, perhaps, but worth it. _

Before he could move, what could only be described as stupidity happened. Rider made his grand entrance, and a quick one-act of idiots began to play out below him.

_Enough foolishness. _

He scooped up the first sword, held it for a few seconds, and set it back down. The second he grabbed, nocked, aimed at a high angle, waited . . . and let fly. Quickly he grabbed and shot the third much lower. He grabbed the first sword, a Caladbolg II, and charged it the rest of the way up to the breaking point while aiming. At some point during this process he noted that Lancer's identity had been announced. He locked his gaze on Lancer's Master, and waited for Kiritsugu and his associate to take the shot. He was aware that Saber and Lancer had both chastised Rider indignantly. He was aware that Saber had taken a wrist wound and was clandestinely favoring it. He was aware that a dark figure had just leapt up on the girder beside him and was closing with him quickly-

_Ah-_

Archer's next three seconds were somewhat of a blur. He had been thrown- no, punched. Punched, and sent flying.

And he seemed to be missing his 'arrow.'

* * *

><p>In the Tohsaka residence, Tokiomi sighed while briefly resting his head in one hand.<p>

* * *

><p>Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi felt as if the chill of death had had him in its grasp, then passed. He shook it off and focused once more on the farce below him.<p>

* * *

><p>Kiritsugu Emiya whirled around at the sound of a soft 'thunk' behind him, rifle pointed down at what he found. His heart skipped a beat and he started to move, then froze again.<p>

"Iri."

* * *

><p>Archer tumbled in the air listlessly, dispassionately deciding that regaining his control at anything before the last possible second may invite extra attention from his assailant.<p>

"Trace, on."

* * *

><p>"The Heroic Spirits invited by the Holy Grail, gather here at this moment! For those cowards that fear to show their faces, spare yourself the humiliation that Alexander, King of Conquerors, would deal to you. Prepare yourself!"<p>

Saber and Lancer gaped openmouthed at the gigantic man, then quickly tensed and spun as they felt another servant rapidly approaching-

-and both blinked as a red shape crashed into the roof of the building on their left (not ten feet from Lancer's Master), then burst out of the side of said building at the same angle, folded into something of a roll, and hit the already-damaged shipping container on their right, finally coming to rest in sort of a casual sitting sprawl on the newly-forged 'throne' where once a vertical wall of metal stood.

Sighing heavily, Archer looked up and took in his audience. He raised a hand in greeting.

"Yo."

Before Saber could respond, she spun to her left and raised her guard as something flew directly at her from the same direction that the man in red came from. She felt the impact on her blade, and LEAPED backwards on instinct, but was confused as whatever the projectile had been shattered into shards that quickly dissolved. Lancer had likewise dodged, but in the direction of his master, who was now obviously no longer in as good of cover as he'd thought he'd been.

Both knights looked up at the black figure standing tall high above. Saber caught some motion in her peripheral vision, and saw something coming down above Irisviel's head. She lunged towards her surrogate Master. She suddenly understood what had just happened and cursed her foolishness.

"IRISVIEL!"

Iri blinked at Saber's outburst and didn't have time to respond before she felt the impact on her head, and all went dark.

"..Ow!"

Iri pulled her hat back up from where it had gotten knocked in front of her face. On the ground next to her was a large foam toy sword. She blinked and the sudden wind as Saber, who had released her Invisible Air for propulsion, skidded to a halt in front of her. They both gazed down at the toy, which shattered and vanished. Saber's face cycled between relief, then confusion, then disbelief.

Archer took a deep breath. _And now to earn my Academy Award._

"Pfft."

Saber turned towards the faint sound, slowly.

"Heh. Ha, ha-ah."

Her expression began to harden.

"Oh, man. The look on your face!"

She began to march forward.

"Honestly, the free ticket on Berserk Airlines wasn't part of the plan, and that big shot was intended to distract Lancer instead, but the rest of it went off without a hitch!"

The man in red hadn't even tried to stand up, or even contain his laughter. On the roof by his Master, Lancer's look of confusion had morphed into a frown, and Rider had one eyebrow raised.

"I mean, really. Did either of you-" his words were cut off as he was faced with the tip of Excalibur, as Saber loomed over him with murder in her eyes.

"Are you making a fool of me?" Her gaze was ice, and not even her injured wrist would stop her from slicing his neck.

The man in red returned her gaze with a beaming smile.

"Yes. Yes Arturia, King of Knights, King of the Britains, dragon-aspected lord of the Round Table and wielder of Excalibur. Yes I am."

Her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Tell me your name, cur, so I know the nature of the blood I'll be wiping off my blade."

The red knight's smile vanished, and his next words carried a tone to match hers.

"Is that the way you thank the one who did you such a service, oh honorable knight?"

Arturia didn't blink.

"What service? Oh, don't tell me you refer to relieving me of the heavy burden of the air trapped around my blade. Or is it something even more idiotic?"

"The service of graciously showing you a gap in your defenses, while generously sparing the lives of your master and friend."

Saber's breath stopped. The tip of her blade quivered slightly as she realized the full extent of what had just been done to her. No one else around noticed the particular emphasis and meaning of that sentence. And, she could not deny, if that sword had not been a toy . . .

She clenched her teeth.

She took in a single, shuddering breath.

Archer maintained his glare and did not blink, as a single bead of sweat rolled down into one eye.

She released her breath, and suddenly her expression was an angelic smile.

"My thanks for your noble act, good sir. May you do me the honor of allowing me to help you up?"

Archer's smile returned.

"Why, certainly, brave knight." He took Saber's proffered grip after Excalibur vanished, and was pulled to his feet. He silently praised himself for not releasing his full-skeletal-and-muscle reinforcement as Saber did her best to discreetly shatter every bone in his hand.

Kiritsugu took all this in silently, from a much more concealed location. He tried not to think too hard about why Berserker didn't kill him. The black knight didn't even seem to have seen him when he had glanced up to see where the thing had come from.

The thing being the toy sword that had a single word scratched in the side, which he had only seen for a second before it vanished.

'Careless.'

He had feared for Iri for a second, but abandoned that as soon as he thought it through. If the assailant (ostensibly the re-headed Archer) had wanted it, he'd be dead. Iri would be dead. But since he wasn't killed, there was no reason to kill Iri. After watching the aftermath, Kiritsugu understood that the entire series of intended events just now was simply the roots of an extended psychological warfare campaign.

Against Saber.

His entire plan for action, all his preparation, hinged on the general idea that Saber would keep her temper long enough to stay useful until the end. He kept her with Iri for three reasons, not the least of which was the fact that he was utterly incompatible with Saber's mindset and way of doing things. He bet that her raw power would trump the handicap of her 'honor' and he arranged things such that she would have as little contact with him as possible. Never once did he think that the enemy would turn this exact fulcrum against him.

He was prepared for many things. He was willing to risk his dream against Kotomine, the only other participant that he thought might be able to out play him on his own level.

Never once did he dream that he'd be facing that kind of opposition from a Servant.

The message that had been sent to Saber was clear. "_You are useless and failed at your role, twice, simultaneously_."

The message sent to him? Less so.

He had not been careless. He had made the optimal choices. He reviewed them in his head again.

Unless the message was designed to make him question himself. Which failed. It was pointless. As pointless as . . .

As pointless as firing a toy sword at a spot three feet behind him. Intentionally pointless. A message that could only come across if the sender knew him perfectly.

What was the Servant planning? What goal would his actions most efficiently propel him towards? What is he fighting against?

On this subject, the mental machine that was Kiritsugu jammed. Probably just as that Servant intended.

He radioed Maiya to pull out and he abandoned the area. The situation was too far out of his control.

"Ah."

Archer glanced up at his former perch.

"You might want to look behind you, King of Knights."

Saber's angelic façade wavered for a second, then she and Archer both jumped in opposite directions as a storage crate fell on the spot they had both just occupied.

Standing on top of it was the Black Knight, Berserker, and he only had eyes for one.


	3. Chapter 3

As Saber clashed with Berserker nearby, Rider looked down at who he could only presume was the not-dead Archer. Chuckling a bit, he lowered his voice.

"You play a dangerous game, my friend."

Archer, eyes locked on the battle, responded after a beat.

"Oh? How so?"

"Only a fool baits a lion so eagerly. While I'll happily admit my recruitment attempt didn't go as I'd hoped, at least I didn't leave those two wanting to kill me afterwards." Rider glanced up at Lancer, then at Saber, then down. "At least, I hope I didn't."

Archer kept his eyes on the battle, but was acutely aware that Lancer and his Master were having a bit of an argument. Lancer continually shot venomous glances his way while words like 'honor,' 'dishonor,' and 'Command Seals' floated down. He smirked slightly, and quickly ran the last minute back in his head.

_I witnessed Lancer and Saber expose their identities openly. I was punched into the battlefield and reinforced my bones and muscles mid-air. I landed, and taunted Saber into melee range. All bruises and other skin damage are healed, and I have a moderate (and now slowly growing) surplus in "Tank 1." I have verified both points of fact I intended to when starting this encounter, however, I discovered another one that must be dealt with before I withdraw._

_Berserker threw my broken Caladbolg II. However, it was changed._

For just a moment, he closed his eyes. The blackened corkscrewed sword appeared in his mind's eye.

_Basic structure unchanged. History intact . . . wait. It's been appended. Skill and strength of the  
>wielder . . .<em>

_What._

His eyes snapped open, and he projected a larger, awkward-looking nameless blade and manifested his bow. Rider's eyebrows raised.

"What are you up to?"

"An experiment."

Archer nocked, pulled. and waited. Berserker was currently swinging around a large flat chunk of the side of the freight container as if he'd been doing so all his life. Once his back was to Archer and Saber had eye contact with the same, he fired.

In a liquid, beautiful motion, Berserker flung his makeshift weapon towards Saber, snatched the new sword out of midair, and then slashed through the metal as if it wasn't even there, now holding a blackened version of the sword he caught. Saber resumed fighting, but seemed to slightly relax in the face of a weapon she was used to dealing with. She was still serious, of course, but the sheer size of the new blade made it easy to predict and deflect, even with her injury.

_Structure unchanged. History appended. Wielder records updated. Sword now enchanted, D-rank. _

Rider looked impressed.

"Hou? Our black friend seems to have a unique talent. You do too, from the looks of it. Shooting swords from a bow? Ha. And what a bow that was."

Archer didn't comment. _A mistake. My bow is made from materials that don't quite exist yet even in this time. Too close a look could be a clue. At least it's not a Noble Phantasm. _

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Oh? How about directness, then? Will you j-"

"Not interested."

"Ha! It was worth a shot."

_And subject changed. So, Berserker can appropriate objects. How . . . annoying. Well, at least I can still dismiss my projections even after they have been corrupted. I was a little too close to that Caladbolg shot for comfort. _

He glanced to the left after hearing Lancer lightly land on the ground. Lancer did not look happy.

"My Master and I have come to an agreement, Red Knight. So long as you are present, I will not be forced to finish my duel with Saber under . . . dishonorable circumstances. As such, I challenge you. For abusing the honor of Saber, and for shamelessly intending to attack my Master while I was occupied.

Archer closed his eyes and sighed.

"You weren't occupied, you were standing there like a slack-jawed idiot. You would have intercepted that arrow effortlessly." He opened his eyes and swept an arm in the general direction Kayneth had escaped. "Besides, even if you hadn't that little ball of fun your Master has following him would have done the job itself, am I right?"

_Actually, that is a wild guess. _

"Nevertheless," Lancer intoned.

_Guess confirmed! _

"Well, whatever you want. Tch. Damned annoying lances."

Lancer reared back a bit and assumed a stance. He raised an eyebrow.

"What, Archer? Am I not good enough to be addressed by a full set of titles and my name?"

"Nope. You're not adorable enough."

In the background, there was a very uncharacteristic _whoosh _sound as a sword completely missed its mark, and a growl-like exclamation as the battle was rejoined with more fervor. Rider's eyes widened a bit again.

"A dangerous game, indeed."

Lancer glared.

"Even now you poke fun at her? This will be even more satisfying." He crouched and was about to advance.

_Damn it. The red lance is a royal pain. I don't think I can project anything short of Avalon that can actually protect me from it, since it will go through 'conjured' material like butter. Which means . . . _

His bow appeared once again in his hand.

_I am no stranger to using my bow in melee, but I only have one of these, and projecting a replacement is a royal pain. Lancer can actually block any of my projections with the red lance instead of destroying them outright, but he doesn't know that yet. If I play my cards right, his raw skill will guarantee he blocks with the yellow lance, or . . . ah ha. My options are quite limited, but this can work. I'd honestly rather be fighting Berserker. Well, when all feasible defense fails . . . _

In his other hand appeared something he'd really rather never see or use again, but rather suited the situation at hand. Right on cue, Lancer's eyes widened to saucers and he didn't advance.

"Gae Bolg? Impossible. You're not the Hound."

Archer smiled.

"Nevertheless," he intoned.

Lancer began to sweat as severe killing intent radiated out from Archer. If there was any doubt as to his ability to invoke the dread spear, it was gone.

"To be honest I'm pretty sure you can kill me despite this. I'm a sore loser, so if I die, I want to make sure you die too. No hard feelings?"

"Bastard! So is this how weakling Heroes stand up to their betters? Trickery and blasphemy?"

Archer blinked (without dropping his killing intent an inch).

"Hero? Oh, you misunderstand." He lunged forward and made a few thrusts.

"Today, I'm just a man." He was easily blocked by Gae Buide and blocked the counter from Gae Dearg with his bow. _Ouch. _"Monsters kill men," he continued.

Lancer went on the offensive, despite trying to keep himself at maximum range- making it easy to defend with the bow.

"Heroes kill monsters." Archer pressed the offense, because they both knew that all he needed was once chance.

"Ghhk!" Lancer was having an easy, almost trivial time deflecting Archer's blows. If he wasn't intimately aware of what that spear was capable of, he would have stepped in range to his doom already. Archer didn't need to be that good with it. He could neutralize the cursed thrust with Gae Dearg if he managed to pin the spear down with the tip; however that wasn't likely to happen. He had no intention of turning tail, however.

"Men kill heroes." Archer tossed his bow and the horizontally-aligned Gae Bolg up in the air a couple feet, reached back, projected Kanshou and Bakuya, then flung them at Lancer's legs.

"You taunt me to this extent?" Lancer roared, as he flicked his longer spear's butt up to knock away Gae Bolg and simultaneously deflect the incoming sword into its twin. He barely had time to sputter "What?" as Gae Dearg's tip passed through one of the incoming swords like thin air, banishing it. Unable to follow through to dispel the second blade, he jumped up to avoid the spinning sword and readied himself for what came next-

-as he saw Archer had allowed Gae Bolg to hit the ground beside him and was currently aiming another strange corkscrew-shaped arrow at him.

"Fool! Arrows can't hit-"

"_Caladbolg II._"

"-me!" He had brought up Gae Buide, but on hearing the name of the 'arrow' on its way he froze mid-thought.

_He knows about many Irish legends. He knew that it would be a mutual loss if he had actually closed enough to use Gae Bolg. He baited me into blocking with Gae Buide so I wouldn't realize Gae Dearg would destroy his weapons. He successfully got me into the air, so I cannot dodge. Damn. I should have crouched and deflected the thrown sword, instead of jumping. I'm right where he wants me. And now he fires an arrow based on a sword that pierces defenses? _

"Like- " Lancer swung out Gae Buide and intercepted the incoming projectile with its tip. Space at the point of impact warped, but Lancer was out of the intended target zone.

" -I'd- " He then absorbed the force of the blow and let it push his spear forward, and used it as a fulcrum to flip bodily up into the air. However, Caladbolg II lived up to its name, and part of the tip of Gae Buide chipped off. It flew towards Rider and scratched the side of his face.

" -LET YOU!" He competed his spin and threw Gae Dearg at Archer with godlike speed, who lunged to the side and raised his bow, but not fast enough. Archer grunted as the spear gashed his side without affecting or being affected by his armor as he almost got out of the way.

Archer came out of his roll not with bow in hand, but the charged and primed Gae Bolg instead. He hadn't dodged as efficiently has he could have because his intent was to re-equip Gae Bolg and close that precious couple feet of distance; something Lancer could not prevent without his feet on the ground (or a long red spear with which to fend him away). With a beastly grin, he step forward, leaned into it, gripped the spear by its butt, and opened his mouth . . .

"_Gae . . ._"

Lancer was running out of options. Stupid as an idea as it seemed, he could throw Gae Durg and probably strike Gae Bolg right out of Archer's hand. Sure, he'd be weaponless, but not defenseless; he was sure he was faster. As he raised his arm to throw, everything stopped as his world turned in on itself to the voice of his Master:

"Lancer. Return."

He opened his mouth to protest but then he was already gone. Gae Buide had left his hand, but vanished along with its partner before it could reach Archer.

"_-Bolg!_" The spear stabbed nothing but air, and left Archer looking quite silly holding it pointed up like that by its butt.

He held that pose for a beat, then the spear disappeared and he recovered his bow and turned back to the Saber and Berserker battle as if nothing had happened. Rider began to speak, but thought better of it and wiped at the trail of blood running down his face.

"Oi. Brat. Wake up and do something about this, will you?" He began to shake his fledgling Master's limp body.

Archer kept an eye on Saber, but she was the furthest thing from his thoughts at the moment. _I almost died. He had me dead to rights. He knew it, I knew it. His master didn't know it, though. Ha. Neither did mine, apparently. Next time he might just crush me on sight before giving me a chance to react. He thinks like I do, it seems. Pity he's still constrained by honor. I'll have to trap him in that cage of his own making if I want any chance of beating him. Then again, Saber's crippled at the moment. Kiritsugu will prioritize Lancer. Oh, this will be good._

Berserker's borrowed sword had failed against Saber, and he was back to swinging and flinging whatever was lying around at her. Archer went to intervene but heard a voice in his ear.

_"Archer. That's enough for now. Come home."_

Archer froze mid-step, then put his hand to his earring.

"What do mean you don't feel like killing Berserker's Master by yourself? You lazy layabout! I have to clean up every single . . . oh, he heard me."

Berserker had broken off from his fight with Saber and vanished. Irisviel cutely poked hear head out from around a corner too see what was happening, and Saber was giving Archer an odd look that even she probably didn't understand. She was breathing heavily, and trying not to show it.

"I won't thank you. That was unnecessary," she huffed.

"Eh, who am I to pass up a damsel in distress?" he shrugged and turned to walk away.

"You churlish- ah." Saber stopped mid-sentence as Archer dematerialized.

She exchanged a glance with Rider, who proceeded to throw back his head and laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

"So, did you have fun, Archer?"

Tokiomi lounged in his chair. No other verb was appropriate. His eyes were closed and he was seeing the city of Fuyuki pass beneath his gaze as Archer leapt and bounded through the night.

"Not particularly, Master. I entered that engagement with the intention of confirming two facts, and left it with three more than that.

"Oh? Do tell."

"As you saw, I confirmed the identities of Saber and Lancer. Rider exposing himself was merely a bonus. More importantly, I saw their combat capabilities, and have witnessed the extent of Lancer's techniques," He paused for breath. "Additionally, I have begun a psychological warfare campaign on Saber and her surrogate Master, primarily focused on pointing out her mistakes and the fact that she is constantly leaving her false Master vulnerable."

Tokiomi held his expression neutral.

"And the wisdom in this is . . ?"

"Saber is, without doubt, the most all-around powerful Servant. I can handle her in single combat without extreme danger, but a carefully timed and applied Command Seal would easily tip the balance against me. By exposing these flaws and preying on her subsequent insecurities, I can create a more paranoid environment in which Saber is less likely to put her Master in a position where she could suggest the use of Command Seals to the greatest effect."

Tokiomi steepled his fingers in thought.

"You seem to harbor less distaste for the Command Seals than I'd expect from a Servant."

"The Command Seals are a tool. I am a tool. For the greatest, most efficient result, a proper cooperative invocation with the Servant following the momentum and spirit of the command will achieve results beyond the conventional limits of possibility. In layman's terms, they can be used as chains, or three opportunities to break the rules of the world."

"You've given this a lot of thought, I see."

"If Lancer's Master had commanded him to Kill, or Finish me, or Win, or anything along those lines, I would be dead. As such, he was a complete fool."

"Hmm. Taking that into consideration, he was indeed. A question, though: why didn't you kill Saber's true Master when you had the chance?"

Archer smirked slightly.

"Because if you had wanted him dead, you would have said so. That, and as you may have noticed, Saber's true Master was about to attempt an assassination on Lancer's Master which I found prudent to assist."

"I did see that. It's the reason I held my tongue. Unbecoming of a Mage, though." He suppressed a shudder.

"Unbecoming, perhaps. Unconventional, certainly. He is the least predictable Master with the most powerful Servant."

"Oh? How modest of you."

Archer smirked again.

"We just happen to have the most powerful Master and the least predictable Servant."

"My. Now I'm being flattered, it seems."

Archer raised an eyebrow.

"Doubtful. You have enough raw prana stockpiled in gems in this building to blow it and us sky high. Since you actually know how to focus and _wield _that prana, I don't want to imagine how big a blast you could conjure up if you put your heart in to it."

"I like to think I have a bit more style than just explosions."

A pause. Archer nodded and shrugged.

"Be that as it may, have no doubt, Master. Power is only part of the equation. As an, no, as _the_ honorable knight of legend, Saber can be trapped in a cage of her own forging by her own ideals and ethics. I simply need to provide her the steel. Lancer is much the same."

"Not very heroic of you, though."

"As I told Lancer earlier, Master- today, I'm just a man."

They sat in silence for a bit, Tokiomi sipping his drink.

"Though, I was worried about one Command that might have come from you after I made it down to the ground." He landed on a low building with mirrored glass windows, and prepared to revert to spirit form.

"Oh? What might that have been?"

Archer smiled at his reflection, assumed his best posture, and dramatically flourished one arm.

"In the name of the Holy Grail, I command you: _**Act with the proper elegance expected of a Servant of the Tohsaka Family.**_" He even reinforced his vocal chords for the appropriate booming reverberation effect.

Before Tokiomi could voice a response, he was no longer connected with his gem. He sighed, got up, and went to bed.

"Pff."

Elsewhere, Kotomine made a small amused sound as he watched through Assassin's eyes. He was jogging through the streets as well, focused on his personal hunt.

'Hitting' the ground after leaping off the building, Archer repressed a sigh.

_He either bought most of that, or simply didn't care. In any case, this is the point at which we see just how smart Rin's father really is. If he takes anything of what I said to heart, this War is as good as won. If he makes other less-than-ideal suggestions from a traditional mage's mindset, I'll need to be on edge for pride-induced stupidity._

_Not that I'm inexperienced in dealing with that._

_Saber alone, I can handle. Rider alone, I don't know. Lancer is a problem. Thankfully, Kiritsugu is in the business of solving problems. Time to see what he's up to._

He continued his search of the city. He was in the commercial district, where the hotels and shopping centers were located. The previous day he had placed a few phone calls on a hunch and discovered that one of the known participating magi was staying at a hotel here under his own name. After the earlier battle, he knew it was Lancer's Master.

_Honestly, Saber seems easier to provoke than I remember. For now, I need to confirm Kiritsugu is moving against Lancer and identify Caster._

"Tch." Archer scowled as he remembered something unpleasant.

_Rider keeps Waver with him at all times. He cannot be sacrificed. If I conflict with Rider I will need to confirm the boy's safety. He is . . . absolutely instrumental in events to come to pass many years hence. Events which may not need to occur if I move correctly._

He caught a glimpse of a shabby coat and messy hair.

_Perfect._

He landed on the ground and followed in spirit form.

He watched during while Kiritsugu rapidly engineered what was looking like a terrorist bombing. As Kayneth had apparently taken an entire floor of the hotel he was in, this proved to be a relatively efficient way of smoking him out, if not outright finishing him. Archer observed without interfering, a question in his mind to which he didn't know what answer he'd prefer.

As the packets were attached to support columns, he walked around the underground parking garage and memorized the placements of the explosives. After leaving, he assumed physical form out of sight and proceeded to structurally analyze the building.

_Total demolition with a minimum of collateral damage, yet maximum lethality. This . . . this is exactly the kind of thing I tried to stop all my life. What are you doing, old man?_

He had kept a bead on Kiritsugu outside, and stayed within (reinforced) hearing range. When he heard the bomb threat get called in, he smiled. The guests evacuated, and the plan became clear to him. His smile lasted throughout the detonation of the building, but faded when he heard Kiritsugu mutter:

"I'm getting soft."

Archer tried to reconcile that statement with these actions and the current situation. On some level he knew he was desperately trying to avoid coming to a particular conclusion, but as everything added up he knew it was unavoidable.

_This guy . . . thinks like me. Willing to sacrifice to save the maximum number of innocents. If the goal on the line was an omnipotent wish granting device-_

His empty heart filled with bile.

His fist clenched.

_Then any act, any sin is justifiable on that path. No sacrifice too great._

But he knew something Emiya Kiritsugu didn't. It was vague, and buried behind centuries of postmortem memories and decades of living ones, but one simple fact stood up in his mind and refused to back down.

_It's futile. The Holy Grail of Fuyuki will not grant any wish of salvation._

Cursed with his new perspective, Archer rebuilt his mental gameboard from Kiritsugu's perspective.

On it were one king,

one knight,

and countless expendable pawns.

He had followed Kiritsugu from the scene of the bombing to a building under construction that had a good overlooking view of the area. The sounds of gunfire erupted from an upper floor. Kiritsugu rushed upstairs, but Archer halted in the lobby. He manifested his armor, stood, and waited.

"_I am the bone of my sword._"

Inside him, the 'bubble' of Unlimited Blade Works floated closer to his 'surface.'

After some more combat sounds, Kiritsugu appeared at the bottom of the elevator shaft, wounded Maiya in tow. He moved her out into the lobby and froze.

Archer smirked at him.

"Well, I was going to offer an alliance to the guy that tried to blow up Lancer, but it seems you couldn't even do that right." Sure enough, the magic signature he could easily 'smell' from this distance spoke of some kind of great defensive measure. Kayneth still lived, and with him, Lancer. "And now here you are, helping your wounded . . . mistress? Or should I say pawn? You couldn't protect your wife, you couldn't assist your Servant, and you barely managed to save her."

Kiritsugu was utterly still.

"So, here I am reconsidering my offer. I mean, I know I have you in an awkward position and all, but the most damage I could really do to you is make you waste a Command Seal to summon Saber here, then run away with my tail between my legs. I'm sure she'd be amused.

Kiritsugu's hand twiched.

"That said, I figure even if you're not worth teaming up with, I can at least give you a free piece of advice. Abandon the War. Forfeit your Command Seals. Do so, and I will guarantee your life and those of your women. Go back to Germany, give Acht my regards, and live in peace.

Silence.

"The Fuyuki Grail will not grant your wish. No salvation will come from it. You waste your life, and the lives of all you care about. Go home. Go back to Ilya."

At this, Kiritsugu's eyes hardened.

_Ah, damn. Oops._

"I refuse."

"I see. A pity, then."

All at once, a dozen various swords manifested in the air, hovering behind Archer.

"If you insist on seeing through your futile dream, then I will at least save you from yourself."

He raised a hand.

"Emiya Kiritsugu-"

* * *

><p><em>Tokiomi Tohsaka dreamt.<em>

_He dreamt he was an empty young man, whose already-dead heart was now completely hollowed by the loss of the one who understood him the best. It wasn't even a merciful, sudden loss. It was a year of wasting away, forced smiles, vomited meals, failing organs, and untold suffering, ending only in_

_mundane death. No justice at all for the frail creature that had already experienced untold suffering even before its body betrayed it. Its final words were both blessing and curse, echoing in his mind from that moment until the very end._

_"It's okay, Onii-chan. You were already my hero. Now someone else can have a turn."_

_It was a punctuation marking the end of the beginning of his life._

_The next years were a blur of preparation. His other friend, the one that understood him second best, supported him as best she could, but she could never get too close. Her glorious talent and fiery enthusiasm were directed in a way he could influence. He chose to have her help him with a particular task. If not to save someone in particular, then to prevent anyone from suffering that fate ever again._

_There was a machine. A magical machine, fueled by tragedy that produced suffering. He had been its victim, as had his father before him. He decided he would see it dismantled. He would do it to save the nameless, faceless people of the future before they could even become victims. His fiery friend_  
><em>was his co-conspirator, his collaborator, and eventually, his lover. They pulled every string. They used every connection, spent every last coin. Allies appeared. Expertise, skill, and power.<em>

_Finally, the day came. The day to break down the machine. As they approached its hiding place, violence erupted._

_Violence turned to battle._

_Battle turned to war._

_The machine produced suffering, but professed to grant wishes. Some listened to its whispers, and were seduced. Others were mere puppets for the listeners, and were deployed as a counterstrike._

_One such puppet came in the guise of one the pair knew very well. It was powerful, far more powerful than it had any right to be. He had watched, helpless to assist and unable to act. His fiery Valkyrie faced off against her blackened and twisted counterpart, but couldn't bring itself to land the finishing blow. She weakened. His mind became hard steel. He had come to a decision. He had stepped forward._

_"You . . . choose me?" The thing said._

_Its defenses fell._

_Its powers waned._

_It opened its arms._

_He walked into its embrace, projected a glowing blade, and impaled its heart. It fell, and died. The blade vanished, he walked to his friend, helped her up, led her away._

_The machine fell without further help from them. They returned home and licked their wounds. However, he had a mission to fulfill. A dream to reach, a path to walk. He finally understood what was required, had gained the last piece. He had also learned that his friend would be a liability on the field of battle. He knew what had to be done._

_He had one more person to save today._

_She had cried, and he hadn't said much._

_She had raged against him, verbally and physically, for what he had done, and he held his tongue._

_When she had no energy left with which to batter him, she just asked,_

_"Why?"_

_"Because it saved the maximum number of lives possible. I finally understand, now."_

_She looked up, a haunted look in her eyes. In a tiny, uncharacteristic voice-_

_"Understand what?"_

_"You can't save everyone. There will always be a sacrifice. I had mulled over it, tried to find a way around it, but eventually came to the conclusion that the most innocents can be preserved by sacrificing a smaller number of them." Succinctly, clearly._

_"You . . . don't regret it at all?" Almost scared, now._

_"Of course not. It was the correct decision. The conflict ended immediately afterward. The chaos stopped." A small, satisfied smile._

_"How . . . how could you say that while smiling?" She had asked variations of that question numerous times in the past few hours, but this time she was looking him in the eye with her haunted gaze._

_"Because of all the good I did. That's all I need." A sharp intake of breath._

_"That's just . . . she, she was . . ." Stammering._

One more push.

_He leaned back and put his arms behind his head._

_"Honestly, I don't see what your big deal is. I mean, can see why my reaction seems inhumanly cold, she was a good friend to me before she stopped coming by, after all. But what was she to you, anyway? All I know is, it seems like to you she was just some underclassman girl that was incredibly jealous that it was you and not her bouncing around on my dick."_

_Silence, and stillness._

Over the edge, now for acceleration.

_"Honestly, if she let jealousy and rage consume her that much without saying a word all this time, she deserved what she got."_

_She stood. He wanted to hug her._

_Suddenly, without the normal grace or elegant anger he was used to, she walked to the door for the last time. He wanted to stop her._

_She sniffled, and turned to face him for the last time. With every fiber of his willpower and being, he maintained the smug, self-satisfied expression on his face._

_She recited the last words he ever heard her say, and felt them sear themselves onto his very soul._

_"Just, you, just d . . . d-d,** D-**"_

* * *

><p>" -drown in your ideals, and <em>DIE!<em>"


	5. Chapter 5

After Saber and Iri left the docks, they returned to their car and Iri drove them home. They discussed the events of the battle. Of particular concern was Saber's wound, followed immediately by Archer's ploy. Iri hadn't initially understood the subtext involved in his actions, but when it was explained to her she was worried at first, then relieved.

When Saber questioned her as to why she wasn't more upset, she had responded,

"He was smart enough to send that message that way, so he is smart enough to understand the costs and benefits of doing so. After all, it's not like you would have listened to him if he had walked up and told us we were acting foolishly, right?"

Saber couldn't word a response.

"That said, blunt as it was, I don't see him as a priority to deal with immediately. By no means should we trust him, but his message was true and clear."

Saber mumbled some words.

"What was that, Saber?"

"If that's how you feel, Irisviel, I will abide by your judgement."

Iri beamed.

"Well, that said, tomorrow will be a new day, and we can play around a bit more before things get serious again," she almost sang as she rounded another corner at breakneck speed.

After a quick conversation about how Iri learned to drive, they reached an open expanse of road. Saber couldn't help but smile at her childish innocence.

"We're almost home, my adorable King of Kights!"

"Iri- tha- hey!"

Iri's giggling erupted.

_Well, if she can show that smile with a small swat at my pride, I can allow it. Still, we'll see how adorable Archer thinks I am when I carve the word on his vulgar hide . . ._

All thoughts like this stopped when she detected the presence of another Servant.

"Irisviel, stop the car!"

A minute later and they were facing down the Servant Caster on the road, listening to his ranting. Saber might have tolerated such insolence for a few minutes had the early evening gone differently, but she was already reaching her limits.

" -as such, Holy Virgin, this Gilles de Rais will restore your memory to you or die trying!"

"I have been humiliated enough this night. Are all the Servants in War save Berserker and Lancer naught but clowns?"

Caster flinched as if slapped.

"I apologize if I have offended, my Mistress! Even if you are not in your right mind, I will strive to conserve your pride! I shall hasten to smite that foul and heretical Archer who dared stain you with such humiliation! Simply relax, and leave-"

Saber was already moving, a bolt of blue in the night.

" -it- "

She was on him in mere seconds, her blade coming down on his neck.

_One less clown in this War!_

" -to- "

And with a mystical sound, she was gone.

" -me?" Caster blinked, then eyed Irisviel.

She recoiled.

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>Secure our escape!<strong>_"

As the Command Seal vanished from his hand, Saber burst out of thin air in front of Kiritsugu between him and the twelve swords. Her own blade was raised, and she had an empty soulless look in the instant she landed and raised her guard.

A look she was snapped out of as the twelve swords converged on a point an inch in front of her and noisily clattered to the ground.

"Go on, old man, get out of here."

Saber blinked.

Kiritsugu didn't need to be told twice. He ran, Maiya in tow.

Saber slid between them and Archer, her expression rapidly changing. Archer smiled.

"Yo, Saber! Fancy meeting you here like this."

Her face settled on outrage.

"CLOWN!"

Excalibur came down on Archer, but Kanshou and Bakuya came up to meet it.

* * *

><p>Kotomine Kirei watched as the man who could only be Emiya Kiritsugu escaped below. He had initially rushed down the staircase in pursuit, but did not reveal his presence once he got to the bottom. He had dared not interrupt Archer's scheme, as he had no desire to trigger the wrath of the red Servant. After all, his bemusement was bad enough. Still, he had an Assassin trail the two now that he had a solid lead.<p>

* * *

><p>Saber's attacks were rapid and merciless. However, that did not mean they were fast and deadly.<p>

Archer deftly countered all the incoming blows and let loose a few of his own. However, his long term strategy for fighting Saber - his painstakingly theorycrafted, decades-in-the-making plan was built on one assumption:

He was prepared to take on Saber when she was at full strength.

However, she was not at full strength right now. She was conserving energy, unable to use one hand, and was fighting with a completely alien style to him. While he was prepared to take heavy blows every second on his heavy blades, none came. Where he was ready to constantly absorb her power by letting his blades get knocked away and projecting replacements, his grip barely shifted when he parried.

Her sword bounced off of his every time their blades clashed; a phenomenon he had spent days, even weeks of thought pondering how to prevent. To absorb her momentum, to deny her that small about of assistance in pulling back her blade for a subsequent strike, was just one layer of the traps he had built into his entire style of swordplay.

Everything about his style of combat, from the weapons he chose, to the methods he used to engage, to the timing of his strikes, was honed to maximize the probability of an opportunity.

Not a mistake. Saber didn't make mistakes.

Not an opening. Saber didn't have openings.

He had taken a risk with the opening gambit for this fight. He didn't know if Saber had shaken off the 'Command Seal trance' by the time his blades vanished. As she had described it to him years ago, for those seconds a surprise Command Seal is in full effect, the Servant's free will and very consciousness are suspended. Unless the given Command is utter anathema, in which case with enough magic resistance a Servant might be able to hold back. Otherwise, they will react ideally to any stimulus and commit any action necessary for a -perfect- response to the command they were given. As he had forced Kiritsugu's hand with a bluff, the 'Super-Saber' that had appeared saw the incoming blades, deduced they were no threat, and did not react to them at all. By dismissing the Master offhand, dissolving the projections, and showing no intention of actually pursuing them, Archer caused the Command Seal's influence to vanish faster than it normally would have.

Saber 'woke up' seamlessly, and on realizing who was in front of her, went into a bit of a rage.

All that was meaningless in the face of the battle he now fought. This was a necessary sacrifice. By all means, if he had a weakness to Lancer, an alliance with Saber would have been the tactically advantageous thing to do-

-which was why it was the one thing he couldn't do. He had shown Kiritsugu that he had a tactical mind. As such, logically, this entire encounter was pointless. It gave him no advantage. If he beat Saber, Lancer would come after him. He had shown emotion, and plucked what should be Kiritsugu's greatest, most secret fears directly from his mind. He had supposedly just revealed a card in his hand, while amateurishly letting his emotions control him.

If he wanted to beat Emiya Kiritsugu, he had to _confound_ him. Act inefficiently. Be unpredictable. Kiritsugu had only one chance to counter this, and that was by using the same tactic.

On someone who could ostensibly read his mind.

Yes, Kiritsugu was out of the way, for now. He'd dare not show his face in the open until he had a chance to consider his options. All that aside, he was now left dealing with an angry cat.

An angry, crippled, ornery cat.

He said as much out loud.

"We'll see what's left when this cat is done with you, fiend!"

He wanted to sigh. It was _too easy_. The provocation, the fighting. He knew, however, that if he pushed her too hard in the fight she'd definitely surprise him (and probably end him).

"I don't see what you're so upset about, this time. It's not your fault your Master was stupid enough to get stuck between an enemy Servant and the exit. Though, I guess you should have kept a better eye on him . . ."

"RAUGH!" Redoubled strength.

"This isn't even fun anymore. Go kill Lancer, and come back when you're worth fighting."

"This is all the power I need to deal with you!" _Ironically, she's probably correct._

"I respectfully disagree," he replied without the barest hint of respect. "I just had a wonderful idea- if you won't go finish your tryst with Lancer, I'll just kill him my-"

"YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING!"

Archer went flying as Hammer of the Wind King set him aloft. Saber was in the air right behind him, ready to impale him mid-flight before he hit the ground. Considering the physics involved in that fact, Archer came to one inescapable conclusion.

_She's really, really mad._

Before she reached him, she found herself blocking three blades coming at her out of thin air from near Archer's body. As they killed her momentum and she landed, six more appeared. Archer, half-embedded in the wall, just smiled as twelve more manifested in front of him.

"Like I said, you're boring. Go away."

"I've dealt with more than twelve swords pointed at me before."

He held her gaze for a beat, then closed his eyes and shrugged. Not taking that as an opening, she was still meeting his gaze when he reopened them and voiced:

"_I have created over a thousand blades._"

The pressure of Unlimited Blade Works inside him grew, as he rapidly generated copies of his chosen blade-of-the-day in his mind.

He allowed twelve more blades to appear before he started firing. One at a time, then two at a time, then three. Not all of them came from straight angles. As he invoked his Reality Marble further, he gained various benefits to his standard abilities. The first line merely gave him a prana discount as it reduced the thickness of the 'boundary' between his internal world and the greater World. Each other verse in the spell provided various passive or active benefits. He didn't need to invoke the entire poem to deploy his Reality Marble, but for maximum longevity and effect, it was preferred.

The line he had used just now merely gave him a speed boost in projection. He knew what Saber would have been capable of defending against at her best. As she was now, she'd not last twelve seconds . . . if she stubbornly refused to retreat.

She tried to persevere, valiantly. She took numerous superficial wounds. She could not take so much as a step forward. Just as she thought she might take a more serious wound, the barrage stopped and she saw the last trace of Archer vanish as he dematerialized.

As she lowered her guard, she didn't howl. She didn't scream, and she didn't curse. She turned, waited for her bleeding to stop, then dissipated her armor and started walking.

He had toyed with her completely. He had spared her Master. He had spared her other Master. Her pride had refused to let her see that for what it was. He once again appeared before her and flaunted her helplessness in her face. He let her Master escape again, and . . . he had spared _her_. She had been defeated. Pride caused her to press the attack, pride caused her to refuse to back down, and pride had shown her the bitter truth.

And Archer had no interest in defeating her _pride._

He at no point had taken overt, unprovoked action to harm her or her charges. Even now, he had given her a chance to walk away. She was angry, but from a certain point of view, he had been (as much as she was loathe to say it), honorable. On some level, by holding on to her cursed wound from Lancer, she was being unfair to the other Servants that wished a fair match. It was the only explanation she could come up with that made sense.

He had used her anger against her again and again. He had rubbed her face in her own mistakes and gave her chance after chance to see it for herself. He was so so much like Merlin that she wanted to disembowel him.

She smiled wistfully.

_So he audaciously thinks I still have things to learn. Very well. I'll prove him wrong and not give him the satisfaction of seeing me in anger again. When I dispatch him, it will be with proper decorum. I will not disrespect him by underestimating him a third time._

_But all the respect and decorum in the world will not save his neck from me for forcing me to leave Irisviel alone . . ._


	6. Chapter 6

Tokiomi shifted slightly in his seat after Kirei finished his report.

The night had been quite eventful. Archer's 'reconnaissance' side trip on the way home had turned into another Servant battle, and Tokiomi had slept through it. Worse yet, it seems Archer himself had instigated said fight, and apparently had passed up another opportunity to kill the Master of Saber. This was . . . less than ideal.

Not to mention the things he said to that Master. Ramblings about the Grail- yes, he was hiding something. Of that, there was no doubt.

_Archer. Come._

He had dropped the grovelling act when he understood he was being sincerely mocked for it. Such sniping hardly bothered him; just at first he was cautious that he wasn't being baited into showing disrespect. He had quickly come to understand that Archer was simply ruthlessly pragmatic, and such pointless pleasantries were a waste of his time.

The red Servant materialized doing a perfect half-court bow.

"How may this one serve, Master?"

"_**In the name of the Holy Grail, I command you. Answer my questions truthfully, in word and in spirit.**_" With a mystical sound, one Command Seal vanished from his hand.

Archer opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. He smirked.

"I'm disappointed in you, Master."

"I took what you mentioned earlier into consideration. However, with recent events on my mind, I decided that I needed to clear some details up. As such, I must know: What is your true name?"

Archer looked him dead in the eye, smile widening.

"I don't know. To be specific, the memory was burned out of me at an early age. It really had nothing to do with your summoning. As for the name I go by and the name that other Heroic Servants would know me by . . ." he closed his eyes and cringed, looked as if he was in pain for a moment, then muttered; "Master, I can tell you that name. However, it would provide zero tactical advantage for us and some level of disadvantage. I can explain most of my capabilities with no such risk. Ask me about any of that and it will be fine. However, the spirit of your question concerns the fighting Grail War, and I honestly think it would be advantageous for you to hear me out regarding keeping my name secret." He was sweating now, and breathing heavily.

Tokiomi looked on for a moment then nodded.

"Fine. I dismiss the question, for the moment." Archer quietly gasped, and stood up straighter as if he had just had a great weight lifted from him. "Why should you not tell me your name?"

"Because I am summoned from the future, and my name would be useless to you in determining my abilities. If you knew it, all you would have is an opportunity for an enemy to steal it, and thereby have their Servant learn the relevant information."

_Buy it. Buy it. Buy it. Don't ask something that makes my connection to Kiritsugu relevant. Don't ask something that makes my connection to Saber relevant. Don't ask something that will lead to questions that connect to those topics. Buy it. Be satisfied, damn you. __**Buy it!**_

"Hmm." Tokiomi closed his eyes and focused for a moment. "Now that you have fought in earnest, I can understand some of your statistics a bit better. While you haven't exposed a Noble Phantasm yet, I can see you apparently have some training in Orthodox Thaumaturgy. What are your capabilities in that regard?"

_Heh. Safe._

"My specialties are Projection and Reinforcement. I am also skilled in structural analysis and the sensing of magic." Tokiomi nodded. "My Origin is 'Sword,' and my element is 'Sword.'"

Tokiomi blinked. He stroked his goatee and pondered for a moment.

"I was initially going to dismiss your magecraft as a a curiosity, as I was relatively certain I could easily match or surpass it. However, with those alignments . . ." He looked at Archer again, as if seeing him for the first time. "The sheer potential for having those affinities is unimaginable. It doesn't matter if you aren't physically dominating, then, because you are a magus at your core. If it is a remotely conceivable effect in thaumaturgy to apply to a sword, you should be able to grasp it." He stood up and began to pace.

"Yes, yes. The swords you projected on the crane, you turned them into arrows with _reinforcement_. I didn't think about it too hard at first because, after all, who am I to understand the working of ancient crystallized mysteries? However, if I take everything I've seen you do and focus it down the lens of modern magecraft . . . oh, my. Projection, you said? Analysis and sensing. You . . . can identify everything about a sword the moment you see it, can't you? And you can duplicate them. You just need prana. Duplicate, and modify. And in this War, you can see a handful of new swords if you are lucky." He stopped, and looked up. "You projected a lance. What are the limits of your interpretation of 'sword?'"

"If a kid on the street would see it and call it a sword, it counts. If it's a blade with a handle, it counts. If it's considered a sword even without a proper blade, it counts. Toss on whatever adjectives you want, if it can be a sword, I seem to be able to grasp it."

"Excellent. This, this was unexpected. I can grasp this. Are you limited to swords?"

"I am able to apply my projection talents to armor and defensive items with less quality and efficiency. Mechanical items are beyond my ability to duplicate, however I can analyze and reinforce them almost as well as anything else."

"Yes, that makes sense. In fact with those-" he stopped short.

He turned, slowly.

"Archer. In your life, you never sought Akasha, did you?"

_Uh oh._

"No, I did not, Master. I was consumed by foolishness and used the power I had discovered for more earthly and mundane purposes."

Tokiomi almost looked sad.

"A pity. You, you might have been able to reach it. Whatever your circumstances were, an aligned Origin and Element like that are so rare as to be mythical. Regardless of your family's focus, or even if they had not been mages at all, if that had been your goal, you might have reached it." Another appraising glance. "Whatever you did to become a Heroic Spirit in the post-modern era, you had to have matched or surpassed the necessary effort. Ah, well. You had your reasons, I assume, and I won't use my Command to pry like that."

_Phew._

"I have enough to think about, for now. I assume my Command will remain valid for the duration of the War."

Archer nodded neutrally.

"Very well then. Oh, one more question. Why did you say those things about the Grail to Saber's Master?"

_Shit._

"Because as far as I am aware they were true, and if he accepts those facts then he will no longer be a concern in the War."

"Oh? And how did you discover this apparent 'corruption?'"

"Partially because I was told, and partially from firsthand experience."

"Who told you?"

_Ah, ha ha, here we go!_

Archer gave off his best combination closed eyes shrug-and-smirk.

"Kotomine Kirei."

The priest, who had been silently present, now took on the look of a deer caught in headlights.

A couple minutes later, Tokiomi was laughing heartily and Kirei was sitting down, shuddering slightly and sighing with relief.

"So our Kirei survives and goes on to mediate the 5th War. How auspicious. Did he tell you anything else about the Fourth War?"

"No, Master. At the time there were only two Servants left, and he had more pressing matters to attend to."

_Like the knife sticking out of his heart._

Archer had, through some small miracle, managed to not expose the fact that the 5th War happens in only ten years, and that Kotomine Kirei murdered his mentor and almost successfully murdered said mentor's daughter. He had even avoided mentioning that Kirei was a participant, and was running two out of a total of eight Servants in the War.

He simply acted coy about the circumstances in which Kirei told him, and by the time Tokiomi was asking the right questions, the spirit of said questions was more pointed towards solving the puzzle than desiring overwhelming context and detail.

"Well, at least I understand your earlier joke about Gilgamesh. Fancy that, a Servant would be summoned in two Wars, and in reverse order at that . . . so in the Forth War before your Fifth, he was the last one standing after all. I made the right choice." After a quick glance at Archer, "No offense intended, of course."

Incidentally Archer also somehow managed to not clarify that in the 5th War he had been a Master. Tokiomi apparently wasn't the curious sort, confident that he had won that alternate Heaven's Feel.

As Archer left the room after being dismissed, Tokiomi was still gently ribbing Kotomine.

"Oh, Kirei-kun, what will we ever do with you?"

Archer responded without intending to, under his breath.

"Trust him implicitly until the moment he betrays you, murders you, steals your Servant, and sets all that you care about on a path to ruin."

_Damn. The Command didn't limit itself to questions he asks _me.

Tokiomi, thankfully, didn't hear this utterance over his chuckling at his disciple's expense.

Said disciple, however, did.


	7. Chapter 7

An indeterminate amount of time later, Tokiomi was in the same chair in his lounge, and he was using his jewel communicator to speak with Risei.

"Yes, he did seem rather uncharacteristically cooperative. Then again, it was a Command Seal."

"Ah, but Tokiomi, you asked him details about his past. This is a Heroic Spirit we're talking about, and if he's not as conventionally powerful as we expected, then he has to have reached his status some other way. You phrased the Command as 'Answer my questions,' did you not?"

"Indeed. Was that a mistake?"

"Possibly. If you asked him for information he did not have, he was probably under no obligation to speak, even with an 'in spirit' clause tacked on. If so, he could have lead you on a merry chase of leading answers to provoke the right questions. You should have had me listening in, if not just so I could test my wits."

"Well, the questions regarding Kirei-kun were pretty clear cut, at least."

"Indeed, but Heroic Spirits are not supposed to keep their memories of previous incarnations in a situation like this. From what you've told me yourself, something seems off about what he was saying. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like a perfect transcript of that entire conversation, just so I can test it for holes. The worst case scenario I can imagine is that he's afraid we'll be unimpressed by his actual identity and switch our focus to Assassin winning the War proper."

"Hmm. Very well. Let me think for a moment and then start quoting . . ."

* * *

><p>Elsewhere in the Tohsaka estate, Archer was . . . cooking. Outside the dining room, Kirei hesitated. The Servant disturbed him, true, but what he was more afraid of was the answers to the questions he had.<p>

The many questions.

Just as he turned to leave, Archer's voice rang out from the kitchen.

"Breakfast is ready, Kotomine-kun. Please, come in and have a seat."

Kirei froze, then steeled himself and sat down. Archer proceeded to come out with two trays; one with miso and traditional Japanese breakfast items; and one with waffles and omelets, a more western flare. He was also wearing a kitchen apron. Kirei tried not to focus on this fact; the absurdity of the situation was on the verge of taking him off guard. He sat, professed his thankfulness, and served himself an omelet. As he reached for the hot sauce, he voiced his first concern.

"Archer. Regarding your answers last night . . . I noticed a few discrepancies."

Archer served himself from the eastern tray.

"Oh? Would it help clear things up if I mentioned I actually fought in the 5th War as a Master, and reached my status as a Servant after that event?"

Kirei didn't vocalize his satisfaction. That had been one of the holes that Tokiomi had failed to account for. However, it wasn't the only one.

"Actually, I was more concerned about the timefra-"

"Ah, yes. I never mentioned to Tokiomi that the 5th War takes place 10 years from now."

Kirei was dumbstruck. That . . . shifted around his entire set of postulations. It left him with fewer, less pleasing options.

Much less pleasing. He took a deep breath.

"You know why I'm here. Tell me what I want to know."

Archer lifted an eyebrow. _Not exactly what I expected, but I can run with it._

"Oh? Whatever do you mean? I thought I was quite clear last night."

"Don't be coy. _What do I become?_"

Archer blinked. Then he frowned. Then he turned the full force of his mind on what he knew about this Kotomine Kirei.

_He is young, unconfident, and unsure of himself. Despite this, I see all the signs of power, of strength, of talent. He is more deadly, more skilled right now than he ever was when I knew him in life. He is quiet and subordinate. He seems a bit obsessed with Kiritsugu. He is a man searching for . . . an answer? To what question?_

Archer considered, leaning back and rubbing his chin. Kirei tensed.

_He's not smiling. Not now. Not once. That's why I dismissed him. That's why I never factored him into any of my earlier plans. This isn't my Kotomine Kirei. He's not smiling. He's not plotting. He's not . . ._

_. . . he's not having any fun._

_At all._

Archer thought. Hard. His Kotomine Kirei was a master of using the truth as a bludgeoning weapon, and as a knife. He could analyze people in seconds upon meeting, then knock them upside the head with their own hypocrisy and insecurities.

Honestly, in that, he strove to emulate the man. It was a wonderful tactical skill for potential enemies. This Kirei showed none of that.

_He's . . . miserable. Utterly and completely. And his exact question. Not "how did I lose?" Not "what do I do?"_

_"What do I become?"_

_A question that can only come from a man that knows he has the potential to change. And in this case, probably for the worse._

_Let's see. In my Kotomine's honor (heh), I'll give him the truth._

Archer looked him straight in the eye.

"You became a man that was always smiling."

Kirei blanched.

"You always looked like you knew more than you were saying. On first glance, you could determine a man's nature and faults, and you gleefully pointed them out in the cruelest way possible, if you had the inclination."

Kirei was still.

"You told me, at the end of the 5th war, that you betrayed Tokiomi and murdered him at the end of the 4th war while forming a new contract with his servant, Gilgamesh. The two of you proceeded to arrive at the finale of the war, where you were defeated by Emiya Kiritsugu and yet were saved in the aftermath of his decision to destroy the grail."

Kirei was suddenly intent at the mention of Kiritsugu's name.

"The grail was corrupt, as I said last night. That was the reason Kiritsugu had Saber destroy it. Any wish made on it would only bring suffering."

Something in Kirei's heart leaped at that statement, but he crushed it down and continued to listen. Archer didn't appear to notice.

"You were saved, and Gilgamesh was . . . corrupted by the Grail. Or at least, he would have been corrupted if he wasn't Gilgamesh, so he said. He wound up with a fleshy body and a permanent anchor to the world.

"The inferno consumed the entire neighborhood. You're aware of the four spiritual points, are you not? Then you know where the final battle took place. That entire area is a lifeless wasteland ten years later; it's a memorial park to the 400 who died."

"That's horrifying." Kirei looked down.

Archer didn't detect any falseness. He continued.

"There were few survivors. Mostly children. The Church, in other words, you, adopted them with the local orphanage and took responsibility for them in the wake of the disaster."

Kirei looked worried, then relieved.

Archer leveled his gaze, looked Kirei directly in the eyes, and spoke.

"As Gilgamesh required little prana to subsist on, but would need great quantities if he was to fight again, you needed a way to supply him. You took the burned and mutilated bodies of those children, had them clandestinely transferred out of the hospitals they were in, and interred them in the catacombs beneath the church."

Kirei's face froze.

"You then spiritually linked them, paralyzed them, and set them up as living prana batteries for Gilgamesh for the next ten years."

Kirei didn't realize he had jumped to his feet, sending his chair flying backwards.

"RIDICULOUS!"

Archer noted the expression on Kirei's face.

Not disgust.

Not denial.

Fear. Absolute, pure terror.

"it's not ridiculous, Kirei. After all, you proudly showed them off to me yourself. Well, more like I had stumbled upon them when searching for you for advice, but then you explained exactly what purpose they were serving in meticulous detail right before you offered me the Grail."

This caught Kirei's attention again and he looked up sharply from bracing himself on the table with both hands.

"Yes, by then you had no interest in making a wish yourself. You just wanted the purest person with the purest wish to have it, so you could watch as it was corrupted."

Kirei's hands clenched to fists, and his knuckles were white, starkly in contrast to the ebony of the table.

"Of course, I refused. You then left me to rot after having Archer dispose of Lancer."

Kirei looked slightly confused, then dropped his gaze.

"Oh, I should clarify. I was Master of Saber. You kept Archer from the 4th War, then at the onset of the 5th you betrayed Lancer's Master, left her for dead, and stole her Command Seals. You used him as a glorified scout for the duration of the war, then discarded him like garbage when he was no longer of use.

"After that, you visited Rin and sliced her up, leaving her for dead."

Kirei flinched.

"Next you crucified the then-current Grail vessel, a 10 year old looking girl, and waited for me by the Temple with Gilgamesh. By the time we arrived, a corrupt mud was pouring from her, and you were basking in the stuff, more than happy to lob gobs of it at me while telling me how disappointed you were in the son of Emiya Kiritsugu,"

Kirei slowly raised his head again and met Archer's stare dead on, a new fear slowly spreading inside him. He was, very slightly, shaking.

_I have, personally, rendered Kotomine Kirei into a quivering wreck. With words alone. If I was still alive, that life would be utterly complete._

Archer went on.

"It was one of the last things you said to me before I detonated your heart with the very Azoth knife you gave to Rin after she graduated from your tutelage."

Kirei held his gaze and for a few seconds the only sound was breathing.

"After that, I rescued my sister, said goodbye to Saber, and began walking towards my own destiny. You were quite possibly the greatest monster I ever fought. Not the strongest, not the most terrifying, but without doubt the most evil. You sought the suffering of others for your own pleasure, and glorified in it. You then took all of your skill and talent and focused it towards that singular goal for your own entertainment."

Kirei had stopped quivering. He stood, composure restored. He retrieved his chair, sat down, and resumed eating. Archer watched, then spoke up once more.

"You seem to be at peace, considering what I just told you."

Kirei finished his mouthful and responded.

"Here I was, desperately worrying for my soul, and then you appear before me, a being with every conceivable reason to slay me where I stand." He took a swig of orange juice, then another bite of food. "If you kill me here, you solve every problem. I will not be consigned to Hell as a suicide, and I will not have a chance to become the monster you prophecize."

He laughed.

"I'll actually see Heaven. I didn't think such a thing was possible. This is the best news. You even prepared a wonderful last meal, and for that I sincerely thank you."

Archer considered the man before him. He saw . . . many disturbing similarities to himself at that moment. He decided on one last probe. Leaning back, he closed one eye.

"Oh? And what makes you so sure you'll ascend to Heaven?"

Kotomine chuckled, a disturbingly familiar sight. _There. There he is._

"I do not mean to brag, Servant Archer. I will simply state this fact." He looked up, met Archer's gaze, and smiled. "As of this moment, I am, to the best of my knowledge, utterly without damnable sin. Every act that could have damned me under normal circumstances is either mitigated by the inhuman and monstrous status of my opponents, or the fact that the ones I have hurt were fighting of their free will in this farce of a contest. Even that woman last night, I did not attempt nor intend to kill."

Archer knew many things about his Kotomine Kirei. He was brutal. He was sadistic. And most terrifyingly of all . . .

. . . he was honest to a fault. If Kotomine Kirei stood in front of him and claimed to be free of sin (in that greasy, slippery, Church-technical sense at least), he would believe it. Moreover, he was welcoming death as a solution to his little dilemma. This wouldn't do. Not to him, to what he was.

"Unfortunately, Kirei-kun, I harbor no ill-will towards you."

_How could I? You, of all people, told me what I needed to hear when I needed to hear it most. I simply failed to listen. All the hints were there. You laid it out right in front of us that you were the one that needed to be stopped. We were just foolish children. Your entire scenario played out such that even after your defeat, we'd regret almost every decision, question every fact, and take no joy from victory. For simply crafting your scenario according to your goal of maximizing suffering, it was artfully done._

Every human opponent he faced during the rest of his life was compared to Kotomine Kirei, and in some way, lost. Shirou's experience in the 5th war prepared him more for fighting humans than anything else. Kotomine Kirei indirectly helped him save far, far more lives than the ones that were lost in the 5th War. As each of his future opponents failed to defeat him, he found himself thanking Kirei in the back of his mind for preparing him. That first, horrible prophecy was completed in full; indeed, his one true wish had been granted.

Kirei's demeanor deflated instantly.

"Ah. So you will choose the appropriate route, and maximize my suffering before finishing me. That, or you will wait until I damn myself before finishing me. Ha. As to be expected, I guess." He dropped his fork.

"On the contrary. Yesterday I was but a man. Today, I'm a hero."

Kirei's expression changed into something unidentifiable. Archer smiled widely.

"Rejoice, Kotomine Kirei! Your wish will finally be granted."

Kirei's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"It is now my full intention in this War to save both your life, _and _your soul. Not only that, but you'll help me do it."

He then finished his miso soup, and began cleaning off the table. Kirei sat, stunned for a moment, then wordlessly stood up to assist.


	8. Chapter 8

After eating, Kirei and Archer moved to one of Kirei's bolt-holes in town. Assassin was more than capable of guiding Kirei away from any surveillance, magical or otherwise, that might have watched him enter of leave the Tohsaka estate. Archer just looked on with amusement as Kirei zigged and zagged his way out of his own backyard, as it were.

Once secure in the Church-owned vacant office building (after Assassin checked for traps), Kirei rolled out a gigantic map of the city and surrounding area onto the lone table in the room they occupied. This map was custom printed and actually covered the Einzbern property and castle as well as Fuyuki proper..

Before focusing on the map, Kirei hesitated, then spoke up.

"Archer. I should probably inform you of something Assassin reported last night."

Archer looked up from the map.

"Hmm?"

"After Emiya Kiritsugu summoned Saber to his side, Irisviel von Einzbern was left alone in the presence of Caster."

Archer turned his full attention to Kirei.

"Apparently Caster mistook Saber for a figure from his own time, and attempted to 'retrieve' her."

"Oh, that explains why she was so angry, then," Archer muttered.

"He announced himself as Gilles de Rais and claimed she was Joan of Arc."

Archer considered this.

_Well, I don't really know much about Joan of Arc, and since she's not in the War this time I don't get any freebies from the Grail. She had an interesting sword or two, as I recall. However, Caster himself . . ._

"Ah. What happened with Irisviel?"

"Caster initially attempted to escort the 'Vessel Sustaining his Holy Virgin' to a secure place, but Assassin intervened and donated three throwing knives to his cause."

"Was he satisfied with the gifts?"

"He was too busy making outraged shrieking noises for me to tell. He then retreated."

"What happened to Irisviel next?"

Kirei looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Well . . ."

* * *

><p>Irisviel was leaning back on the car, shocked. All the preparation Kiri gave her was nothing to a Servant. He had told her in no uncertain terms.<p>

_Iri. If Saber is not by your side and a Servant of the other two great families threatens you, invoke your status as the grail vessel in your defense. If one of the more knightly classes confronts you, attempt the same. If a Caster class Servant of an unknown master confronts you, run. Scream. Do anything and everything in your power to get attention, and make it as awkward as possible for it to secure you quietly. Caster will probably care the least about your status and attempt to use you itself._

All that had been for naught, as she was trapped on an isolated highway at night. As she was about to futilely attempt to jump the the car and escape, dark shapes fired from the trees to either side and perforated Caster. He screamed some curses and dematerialized. She had looked left, then right, then left again . . .

. . . into the bone-white skull mask of Assassin.

"The vessel must not be harmed."

It gave a short bow, then faded back into shadow.

She slumped against the car door, and recovered her breath.

* * *

><p>Archer was holding his chin, considering this.<p>

"It makes sense, at least. They assume that Assassin belongs to Tohsaka. Well done, Kirei."

Kirei looked sheepish once again.

"To be honest . . ."

"It was actually our idea," purred a voice from right behind Archer's left ear.

Years of training and decades of fighting were both meaningless in the face of such stealth. As such, Archer had always taken the attitude that if he was going to be sniped or back-stabbed or otherwise caught unawares, that he wouldn't let it bother him. Instincts screaming otherwise, he simply smiled without turning or flinching or otherwise reacting without decorum.

"Well, it was an outstanding use of initiative. It also amps up Saber's level of paranoia one more notch. Masterfully done."

"But of course." The female Assassin bowed, then faded.

Kirei cleared his throat.

"In addition, I don't think master Tohsaka has informed you of Caster's other . . . activities."

"Oh?" Archer's mind started spinning, and he realized he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear.

"Caster, or as he was known in legend, Bluebeard, hasn't changed his habits much, it seems."

Archer frowned and consulted the innate knowledge he gained on hearing Caster's true name. He froze.

"Kirei, would you happen to . . ?"

Kirei wordlessly handed him a dossier.

Archer quietly flipped through the articles, book references, and historical accounts. He then got to the recent newspaper articles and missing persons reports. All expression left his face, and his posture changed minutely.

Kotomine Kirei, for the second time in five hours, tasted fear. He plowed through it and spoke up.

"Assassin has been monitoring the city, trying to find the routes the Master uses to travel by. Apparently he was a serial killer before he joined the War, and simply used his compatible Servant to ramp up his efforts. They have been indiscriminately attacking homes and families, with no regard for hiding their supernatural natures or magecraft. Father, er, Supervisor Kotomine is about to announce a ceasefire and rules change for the purposes of eliminating Caster."

"Oh? Go on." Archer did not look up or otherwise move from his reading.

"For the duration of Caster's survival, all combat actions against other Servants is forbidden. Additionally, whichever Master is responsible for Caster's demise will gain an extra Command Seal as a reward."

Archer closed the folder and set it down on the map. He closed his eyes.

"This is bad."

Kirei didn't respond.

"Kiritsugu won't hesitate to use this as an opportunity to take out some other masters with their guards down. Saber won't wish to cooperate, of course. She'll want to crush the monster. That leaves the masters of Rider, Berserker, and Lancer. Tokiomi won't move, and you're safe in the shadows."

He clicked his tongue.

"Kirei, you have homework. I need a little bit more info than just the identities of the Masters and their movements. I need to know which ones we will have to outright destroy, and which ones may have a chance of becoming temporary allies. I need background information, and their reasons for fighting. Their wishes they intend for the Grail as well, if possible."

Kirei nodded.

"Assassin, consider it an order."

"As you command, Master," echoed the female Assassin's voice.

Kirei looked at the ground for a moment.

"Archer . . ."

"Hmm?"

"What is Emiya Ki- your father's wish?"

Archer looked up from the map. He chuckled, a hollow sound.

"He intends to save the world."

"What?"

"He apparently intends to wish away all conflict and war. His ideals and discipline have prepared him to go so far as to sacrifice a small number of innocents to save the rest. It's only matter of scale."

"And if he's working towards the final goal of saving all of humanity . . ."

"Then he has no limits. No sacrifice is too great. He has no honor or sense of fair play. He apparently didn't have any ethics in that regard back in his prime. He almost didn't call in the bomb threat before he bombed Kayneth's hotel."

Kirei was silent. His expression hardened.

"Fool. And to think I expected . . ."

Archer glanced at him.

"Expected?"

"I thought he'd have the answer. The answer for someone empty like me. In the end, he's just a different kind of fool who was full to the breaking point, such that he lost all sense of self and self-interest."

Kirei closed his eyes and reflected on himself.

_Empty as I am, even I . . ._ he stopped.

_I must not think of her._

_Why must I not think of her?_

_Because I must not corrupt my memory of her with the rot at my core. She must not be stained. And neither must . . ._

_I might be tainted. My heart might be tainted. But even so, I will not betray those I hold dear. Even if that means abandoning them such that I cannot harm them, or wish to._

Kirei finished his thought, opened his eyes, and continued.

"He is weak. Too weak to put his loved ones above others. Too weak to shoulder the burden of communal guilt and responsibility he placed on himself. Heh. The Church uses that tactic to great affect in sermons, but rarely have I seen a man carry it to the extreme of dropping everything else. Does he think he is Christ? Blasphemy."

Archer was quiet for a moment. He leaned forward and grasped the edge of the table with both hands.

"No. He's just doing what he feels needs to be done. He doesn't think about it that much. In that, he's probably more like your Savior than he'd ever be comfortable seriously considering." He locked his eyes on the map once more. "At least, I hope he doesn't think about it much."

"Well, as long as he harbors no feelings for the vessel . . ."

Archer looked up, eyes wide and took in a sharp breath.

"The vessel. Irisviel. Kirei. Explain to me the vessel's role, assuming everything goes according to plan."

Kirei suddenly felt an indescribable amount of pressure.

"The Einzbern homunculus sent to Fuyuki is little more than a mass of Magic Circuits designed to hold the raw prana contained from the dissolved copies of the Servants' souls. At each Servant dies, rather than that soul returning to Akasha as normal, it gets trapped in the Vessel, or the Lesser Grail. As each further Servant perishes, the Vessel is brought closer to capacity, and gradually loses the functionality of a human form and being."

_Archer's look right now could cause a man's heart to stop, _mused Kirei.

"After a point, the human biomass melts away and all that remains is the spiritual core of the grail. Once the final Servants are dispatched, it is ready to invoke a wish; said wish is manifested as the seven Servant souls are consumed and simultaneously returned to the Root. This is the truth behind the Heaven's Feel. The Einzbern homunculus is a transitory creature that is destined, from the very beginning, to be discarded as a temporary shell."

Kirei jumped as the table cracked and splintered from Archer's grip.

"Unforgivable fool. Of course, he won't believe me trying to convince him. By the time the grail's corruption is obvious, Irisviel will be gone."

Archer chuckled again. He stood up and turned to Kirei.

"It looks like your first step on the path of your own salvation will be to practice some applied suffering, Kotomine."

Kirei blinked and tired not to turn away from the stare he was being subjected with.

"Applied suffering?"

Archer smiled.

"Sometimes, a man will not listen to reason, will not respond to threats or mercy, and will not be dissuaded from his course by anything less than death. This is called a fool, and fools cannot be conventionally saved."

Kirei opened his mouth, but before he could speak.

"In which case, since killing him is off the table, he'll just have to bear with our plan to put him in a situation worse than death, which he cannot escape without dancing like a puppet on our strings. We'll rub his face in his own flawed logic, and drag him kicking and screaming to his own future."

Kirei considered this, and suddenly realized his face had the barest hint of a smile.

For the first time since he entered this farcical war, he realized he might be starting to have fun.

* * *

><p>Elsewhere, earlier:<p>

"So, the ritual was corrupt?"

"In his 5th War, yes. Apparently his Kirei caught on was caught in a hard spot. Greedy less civilized magi being what they are, I do not doubt none of the participants would have wanted to believe that claim. I don't know what happened between that 4th and 5th War, but I can say for sure, the grail system is as it was at the peak of the 3rd War. There are no irregularities, and it is perfectly responding to my commands."

Risei and Tokiomi were finishing their earlier conversation.

"But how would one corrupt the ritual?" mused Tokiomi.

Risei grunted.

"I put nothing above the capabilities of the Caster class in that regard. I consider it a mistake that it was ever included. Metaphorically, it's more or less tossing a wolf in with the lambs we are guiding to slaughter. Summoning a magus greater than any of the participants? Simply unwise. They could probably see right through the Greater Grail if they had the opportunity to scry it. Or the Vessel."

"Mmm. Well, as long as it's just that, there's no need to worry. This Caster will be done soon enough."

"Indeed. I should make the official announcement here now. I'll speak to you again soon, old friend."

"Indeed. Until then, Risei."

* * *

><p>In Caster's Workshop:<p>

Uryuu Ryuunosuke looked up from his latest 'work' to greet his new patron . . . and recoiled as the wounded Servant staggered into the dimly lit chamber.

"THAT FOUL BEEEEEAAAIIIIIIIIIIiiiist" Caster's curse couldn't be discerned from its subsequent shrill squeal. Making further wrathful and pathetic noises, he knocked Uryuu's latest project off the main table, utterly splattering it on the far wall.

"Ah, sir!" Uyruu started.

"Now is not the time for fun or art, Ryuunosuke! I was lax! I underestimated! All of them, circling my maiden like vultures! Each ready to return her to that horrific fire!"

At this, Ryuunosuke wisely held his tongue.

"We must WORK! We must work hard. I'm sorry we cannot focus on our fun for the moment, but something much more vast and imperative awaits us, and I have been made ever so rudely aware of the circumstances arrayed against us! She must be saved, and to be save her, we need power! Fuel! Food! You must go and collect, and collect, and collect!"

"Aww, but Sir . . ."

"I know Ryuunosuke, it's hard. We want to badly to give these objects more meaning, to bring them to the epitome of terror and despair and by doing so transform them into art, but a greater duty is in front of us for now. You must go out and increase our efforts in collection, while I toil here at preparing us for the conflict to come. I have to attempt one more time to convince Jeanne to join us, and if she refuses, I will have to stain her as much as necessary to rescue her from the burning wrath of God. And more importantly, from those who would stain her other than myself."

"Ri- right. Well, umm, I don't see myself getting as much done by myself as fast what with the news coverage and such- people are getting a little bit more vigilant. I've had to, you know, be on the lookout for vulnerable families, right? Is there anything more than the bracelet I can use?"

Caster blinked, and his rage vanished.

"Ryuunosuke, fear not. Even if you stormed the very gates of this town's castle . . . ah, precinct? Whatever the case, I will be protecting you. Even before, from the shadows, I have had you under guard. Worry not. Ah, here."

Caster opened his hand, and in it appeared something round, flat, and organic. It twitched, and the surface peeled back to reveal an eye. Another twitch, and it closed.

"Put this on a pendant, or somewhere else close to your skin. It will convey your intent to our monstrous allies. It will be slightly more intuitive than having them devour all who approach you over a certain size."

Uryuu took the slimy object and didn't complain.

"Thank you, sir. Well, in that case, I guess I'll be off!"

"Be well, Ryuunosuke. I will see you soon."

After Ryuunosuke left, Caster turned to his remaining stock of objects, and smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's note 3/11/2012_:

_OK, so over a week later I have come back to re-write chapter 9. Old chapter 9 is now struck out on spacebattles. The Kayneth scene is the biggest casualty, but other things are being reworked as well. Please re-read and note what has changed before moving on to chapter 10. I'll still have to mention this at the top of Chapter 10 when it happens as well, so please bear with me.  
><em>

_ Thank you for reading._

* * *

><p>The previous night . . .<p>

Saber rendezvoused with Kiritsugu and Maiya shortly after her skirmish ended. They had holed up in a nearby safehouse he had prepared, and he had done some first aid on Maiya such that she'd survive without complication long enough for Irisviel to magically heal her back to optimum.

As soon as Saber arrived, she informed Kiritsugu of the circumstances she was in with Irisviel before she was summoned away. She knew that any rapid action to help Iri was pointless, as Caster could have taken her anywhere. He didn't so much as grunt in response, merely helping Maiya get in to the getaway car. Apparently the only reason they hadn't already driven home was because Kiritsugu didn't want to deal with having Saber navigate all the way back to the castle solo.

Shortly after the car started moving, Kiritsugu's cellphone went off. He answered, grunted in acknowledgement, then with a

"No, I didn't. Ok,"

He tossed the phone back to Saber.

Saber caught it and put it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Saber! I'm OK! Kiritsugu didn't even tell you I called him as soon as I could, did he?"

"Ah, that would apparently be the case." Saber took a deep breath and tried to not let her dissatisfaction overflow. "I am glad to hear that you are safe."

"I'm happy to hear your voice too. I knew about the Command Seals academically but I didn't realize how violent they'd be. In any case, I am apparently going to be on healing duty once you arrive."

"Indeed. Well, We will be arriving at the castle soon, I will see you then."

"Okay! Bye Saber!"

Saber passed the phone back up to Kiritsugu, and tried to not to think about anything at all.

The car ride proceeded in silence, with an occasional involuntary sound from Maiya as her wounds got to her. Once they got to the castle, Saber got out of the car, helped Maiya out, then scooped her up and carried her, one glace directed at her face, daring her to protest. She whisked Maiya ahead to where Iri was, and hoped on some level Kiritsugu would fall off a parapet and break a few bones.

Oh, if it looked like he was going to die, she'd save him, but as long as it was something Irisviel's healing could handle she wasn't going to further inconvenience her Master by involving herself.

These and other dark thoughts bounced around behind her otherwise stoic expression as Maiya was laid out on the briefing table and examined by a surprisingly unharmed Irisviel. Hearing her voice aside, that Caster seemed like the sort to not hold back. Saber decided she would wait for the whole story until everyone was present. A few minutes later, her Master arrived.

At first Kiritsugu went over the events from his perspective, and at the point he discussed his conversation with Archer, Saber's attitude towards him mellowed slightly. While not a threat per-say, his apparent casual mention of her Master's daughter's name did not win him any awards for chivalry, to say the least. Kiritsugu's further mention of the potential explanations, be they some kind of special scrying ability, direct mind reading, or other Phantasm-level possibilities, left her more worried than she expected regarding the irritating red Servant; whatever his abilities, his actual intent was completely inscrutable.

Iri explained what had happened during the confrontation with Caster, and the intervention by Assassin. Kiritsugu had already heard this part by way of telephone call, so he didn't so much as twitch. Saber was slightly confused, and decided to ask more about this 'vessel' business later.

Finally, the announcement regarding Caster was discussed. Saber was less than satisfied by Kiritsugu's plotting for advantage in defiance of the official rules of the contest, and stated her case. She was ignored again, and despite her intentions to the contrary she allowed her anger to leak out again (as this was not battle, she rationalized it later as blowing off some pressure) by quietly stating that even for all Kiritsugu's planning and treachery, he had not manged to score one single decisive victory, and that if even the idiotic honor-bound anachronism could see that, then perhaps he had bigger problems on his hands.

Iri flinched, Maiya didn't react, and Kiritsugu . . . seemed like he didn't react.

Satisfied, she left the room without being dismissed.

Later, on a rampart overlooking the forest, Kiritsugu had his delayed heart-to-heart conversation with Irisviel. After breaking down as much as he'd allow himself to in her arms, he whispered:

"Iri, if I could believe it, if it was true, I'd have taken that bastard's deal in a second. But it's too much. It's the perfect trap for me. We have to avoid him. Doubly so since he's that Kotomine's." He looked her in the eyes. "Iri, it can't be true, can it? You don't sense anything wrong at all, do you?"

Irisviel shook her head slowly.

"No, everything feels fine. Not that that's saying much as the vessel is still empty, but . . . I don't feel as- oh!"

She flinched. Kiritsugu's expression faded and his tone changed.

"Already?"

"It's Caster. Caster, and . . . others."

"To the scrying crystal." They moved.

The battle for Einzbern Forest was about to begin.

Nearby, on the highway, Kayneth and Lancer sat in the back of a taxi. The driver, hypnotized, sped them along towards the forest as quickly as he could without attracting undue attention. Kayneth's eyes were closed as he looked through the eyes of a familiar he had soaring near the edge of the Einzbern bounded field. He hadn't noticed Caster and the group of children he had in tow until it was too late to follow directly, so he merely kept an eye on them as they had not taken any measures to hide their presence.

As a magus, Kayneth was unimpressed.

As they reached the edge of the forest and disembarked, Kayneth left more than enough money on the dashboard to compensate the driver for his trouble and disorientation. He commanded the man to navigate back to Fuyuki, then awaken from his hypnosis. As the cab drove off, he turned to Lancer.

"Find Caster. Crush him. Play with Saber if you must, but don't be an idiot-"

Lancer flinched slightly at that,

"-and don't allow yourself to be sucked into someone else's pace. Understand? You are forbidden from engaging Saber if any other servants are present or even remotely capable of interfering. For that matter, don't fight anyone other than Caster if that is the case. Especially Archer. Your grudge WILL wait. Is that clear?"

Lancer bowed his his head.

"Yes, my lord. I will endeavor not to embarrass you again."

With that, they parted ways and entered the woods. Kayneth smiled as he felt the bounded field react to his entrance, then invoked his invisibility and faded from view.

* * *

><p>Alexander looked up from taking the latest of a handful of river water samples.<p>

"I feel like I'm missing the excitement. River water. Pity it isn't wine."

He blinked.

"Say . . ."

He chuckled, then went back to sampling with new energy.

* * *

><p>Archer, Kirei, and a handful of Assassins reached the opposite edge of the forest shortly after Lancer and Kayneth entered. The three that were already on Saber duty were already scattered inside, and the ones that arrived with them infiltrated unnoticed shortly thereafter. As they couldn't quite pierce the castle proper unnoticed, they had easily spread through the trees to the point that Kirei had a live view of most of the clear paths to the castle. In short order he could be looking at any point in the forest. One Assassin was already watching Caster as he shouted his ultimatum to the air, and crushed the skull of the nearest child he had brought with him.<p>

The Hundred-Faced Hassan was one of many that held his position. He was a man of numerous skills, and had infiltrated dozens of fortresses and removed countless targets. A master of disguise, of killing technique, of speech and craft.

Never once had he killed an unrelated innocent.

He had involved his share of innocents, of course. Men who just happened to be in the wrong place, men whose timely unconsciousness would send the target into a panic. He had tricked children, drugged children, hidden children. If he wanted a target to reveal himself, if he wanted a man to come out into the open, he could do so without a drop of blood spilled.

Occasionally the target was selected as a message to the one whose attention the Old Man of the Mountain had gained.

This mad dog, provoking the (easily enough manipulated as it was) King of Knights into coming at him in a killing frenzy, was worse than unprofessional. It wasn't even a proper use of death as a message. It was an insult.

None of this made it to Kirei in detail, aside from a cold anger that pulsed through his sixth sense as he viewed the scene from the Assassin's eyes. Shortly thereafter, the female Assassin faded into view on one knee.

"Master. We request the use of our ally's . . . talents."

Kirei nodded. Archer raised an eyebrow, and Kirei quickly summarized.

Archer's expression went blank. He stepped forward, turned back and glanced at Kirei, nodded, then bolted into the forest.

* * *

><p>Irisviel's head jolted up from the crystal ball.<p>

"Archer has entered the forest and is heading for Caster as well."

Kiritsugu merely nodded in acknowledgement.

* * *

><p>Archer dashed through the trees at top speed, cursing the situation.<p>

_Plenty of cover, no sniping positions nearby, hostages in the way . . ._

_Yeah, this is a wonderful scenario. At least I get to save some kids if I get there fast enough._

At this thought he came upon the first corpse and skidded to a halt.

_Crushed skull, looks like from a hand; Caster apparently has superhuman strength. No huge surprise there._

The body ever so slightly twitched.

"Trace, on."

He reinforced his sense of smell, and almost reeled backwards from the _wrongness_ of what he detected.

_Magic on this kid's body, and still very much active and very much alive. And wrong. Too wrong. But . . ._

He casually traced Bakuya and flung it down into the corpse. The energy quickly faded.

_Monstrous, whatever it is. I can deal with monstrous._

Veteran eyes swept over the surroundings. He quickly took stock of a few more bodies, and listened for the scrambling of survivors.

Quickly scaling a tree, he touched his communicator.

"Kirei. Have an Assassin point out the rest of the bodies to me."

Almost instantly, one appeared in the tree nearest him.

A quick exchange later, and a second Assassin appeared. Archer projected and handed them each a pair of Kanshou and Bakuya. They lept away silently and went for the more distant corpses. Archer proceded to project a fling a few more pairs. neatly impaling the heart of each child's body, snuffing out the foul energy building within.

_Which only leaves . . ._

He dropped down from the tree and marched forward. Sure enough, with a bit of travel he came upon the final child running from Caster. With a quick glance he knew the situation was hopeless. Maybe if Kirei was present and he had time to perform an exorcism, but . . . that wasn't possible.

That child was doomed.

Deep inside him, in the amber sky over the hill of swords, the giant array of gears began to slowly turn.

_Two targets. No wind. Element of surprise. Assume primary target will not succumb to first barrage. Priority: secondary target. Defensive capability: negligible. Monstrous energy detected in both targets. Appropriate course of action confirmed. Engaging._

Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in his hands and flew out into the trees in two separate directions. A second pair appeared, and he flung them both at Caster. A third pair appeared, and he jerked his head to look at the child as he heard the sound of steel on steel ahead of schedule.

Saber had arrived, and parried the thrown sword headed for the child at the last second. At the same time, Caster had pulled a -

_-completely mundane and unremarkable, nameless-_

- sword out of his robes, and deflected the first Kanshou headed for his neck. With an unpleasant screech, he dove out of the way of the next two swords, never losing his grip on his sword or his . . . book.

_Point of note. Book obviously related to magecraft at work. Designation: tertiary target._

"ARCHER! What is the meaning of this?"

Archer turned back to Saber, who was eying him warily. Her blade seemed to hover between pointing at him and at Caster.

"The boy is infected with foul magecraft. If it's left alone, something bad will happen. He must be purified."

No inflection, no emotion, not hesitation. Saber was taken aback, and the child wailed and clutched at her harder.

"Nonsense. Even if he was to be controlled or manipulated, I doubt he'd be a threat of such magnitude that-"

"The curse only cares that a body is present. It doesn't matter if it's dead or alive. It's already eaten half of his essence. _He cannot be saved._" He raised his arms to throw his third pair of swords.

Saber was slightly taken aback. Archer had no trace of his former demeanor or attitude. No sarcasm, no insults, not even his customary overly familiar greeting. He radiated lethal intent, and the boy shook from terror. Shook, then suddenly stopped.

"Tch, too late."

* * *

><p><em>A bit earlier . . .<em>

Caster was on the ground. Just as he was about to catch his breath, he flinched again and let a shrill sound escape his lips as the sword Saber deflected embedded itself in the tree night next to his head. He heard his Jeanne engaged in conversation with the red man, and made to stand up, when the sword in the tree caught his eye.

Its craftsmanship. Its quality. Its purpose.

He was a warrior and a swordsman long before he was a practitioner of the black arts. He had an eye for weapons, especially those of fine make. He was by no means a legendary swordsman himself, but he had fought back to back with one on plenty of occasions. As such, he was by no means unfamiliar with a blade, or lacking in the reflexes needed to use one. He had been driven to draw his when his summoning had failed; perhaps the catalysts had been disturbed.

Correction, on seeing this blade, he knew exactly what had happened. Just as he was about to turn back to the conflict behind him, he noticed one last property of the blade. An engraving.

_Spirit and technique, flawless and firm_  
><em> Our strength rips the mountains<em>  
><em> Our swords split the water<em>  
><em> Our names reach the imperial villa<em>  
><em> The two of us cannot hold heavens together<em>  
><em> —Two great men, sharing a life.<em>

His mind raced. Somewhere in the back of his consciousness his old fondness for 'mundane' art re-awoke. As he reached into his memory for where he has seen this blade before, he inadvertently reached back into Akasha itself. Grasping the name of the blade firmly in his mind, he traced it back down the channel provided by the Holy Grail.

_Yin-blade Bakuya_. _No blade exactly like it has been mundanely forged by human hands. While it is a very close copy of a slightly different blade, this one is uniquely used by a single hero. That hero's name is . . .  
><em>

Caster smiled at the wonderful coincidence. He sheathed his sword, turned, saw the situation, and snapped his fingers. The child's motion stopped.


	10. Chapter 10

The child staggered backwards, made a couple choking sounds, then fell. Before it hit the ground, a violet and green monstrosity erupted from its chest, spraying blood and viscera into the air. Saber had initially lurched forward to reach for the boy, but froze as she took in the gruesome display. Archer just sighed, closed his eyes, turned to Caster, and opened them again. What little emotion he had allowed to leak during the last minute vanished without a trace.

Saber slashed the beast in two, and turned back to Caster as it collapsed. Just as she opened her mouth to say something the two halves twitched and burst open, revealing two more identical monsters. Archer glanced over, then back to Caster. The mad mage spread his arms and bowed.  
>"You made a valiant attempt, Red Knight. You almost sealed off my assistance completely. Thankfully, Jeanne was never one for watching innocents die."<p>

Archer slowly moved to put Caster between himself and the mess Saber was quickly escalating. Caster chuckled again.

"Indeed, it would have been quite tragic if she hadn't been freed from her contract with the World. Don't you agree, Counter Guardian?"

Archer stopped dead. His expression hardened for a moment.

Then, he smirked.

"Ah, Caster, you've made a mistake. If you hadn't just mentioned that, I still would have had a reason to hold back."

Caster gripped his spellbook with both hands, and lowered his voice.

"Perhaps. However I just needed to make something very clear. You are probably quite the hero yourself, are you not?"

Archer didn't respond.

"What do you think will happen if I unleash the full power I have available to me here?"

Archer shrugged.

"I don't know, why don't you try and find out?"

Caster shook his head.

"I don't need to, Beast of Alaya. When Jeanne was alive, while we campaigned, she _dreamed_. Sometime glorious dreams of future victories. Sometimes terrible dreams, where she would be summoned to disasters and become a storm, leaving no witnesses in her wake. It didn't take much research to determine she was dreaming of her own fate after death. I can manufacture a threat to the World in a very short time. Of course, with six legendary heroes scattered around, any possible disaster I cause could be quickly mopped up, don't you agree?"

Archer was still.

"Of course you do. But that's not the question. The question is: what happens to YOU both before and after the threat is gone? Will you be yourself? Or will you turn on everything that lives and breathes and erase this city from the map?"

Caster held his gaze for a moment, then smiled.

"Of course, I have no interest in wasting so much raw material. So, I'll make you a deal. Stop interfering with me, and I'll endeavor not to invoke the Counter Force. Leave me with no hope, and I will make your final hours on this plane Hell."

Archer pretended not to notice the dozen creatures working their way behind him. Saber struggled on, heedless of the growing horde she was creating. Apparently she was turning the encounter into a contest of prana.

Archer spun and flung his swords through the mass of monsters, then projected two more pairs and repeated the process. Every monster he even nicked with the blades fell. He turned back to Caster.  
>"I get the feeling you'll do that regardless. In any case, I also doubt you could do such a thing right now, and I seriously don't believe you could pull such a feat off without attracting a lot of attention in the process. Go on, do your worst."<p>

Caster squealed in rage and raised the book over his head. Just as it began to glow and activate, a figure dropped from the air behind him and a red lance tip sliced it in half.

Caster fell to his knees and screamed as all the monsters died. Archer released the projection of the various swords pinning the undefiled corpses immediately and nodded to Lancer. Saber marched towards them, but before she made it all the way over Archer noticed the spellbook Caster was hunched over had healed itself.

"Finish him, QUICK!"

Lancer's eyes widened and he brought his lance down as Caster rolled to one side and all the monster corpses exploded into a red mist. Archer cursed and started running back into the forest.

When the mist faded, Saber and Lancer lowered their guards, exchanged a few words, and parted as Lancer dashed for the castle in a near-panic.

* * *

><p>Tokiomi sighed and turned to Risei.<p>

They were back in the Tohsaka mansion's study again, monitoring the battle for the forest as best they could. Mostly they parsed Kirei's reports, and occasionally Tokiomi could glean useful information from Archer's senses.

Information, such as the fact that he was apparently a Counter Guardian.

"I seem to have been asking the wrong questions, Risei."

Risei wore a mildly bemused smile.

"Next time, will you wait for me to arrive?"

"Yes, I have learned my lesson."

The two men sat in silence a few moments more, gazing at the different facets of Tokiomi's scrying gem array. Tokiomi cleared his throat.

"So. A Counter Guardian."

Risei raised an eyebrow.

"So it would seem."

It was everything Tokiomi could do as he suppressed a shudder.

* * *

><p>Archer dematerialized as soon as he was out of line of sight, and diverted his course back towards Kirei. They had a new set of problems, and a quickly shrinking amount of time in which to address them. After he was sure he wasn't being followed, he faded back in and activated his communicator.<p>

"Kotomine. There is a complication." Kirei stiffened for a moment before Archer continued. "Has Assassin located Caster's workshop yet?"

An Assassin materialized next to Kirei and slowly shook its head.

"Not yet. Shall I prioritize it?"

"Yes. Have them do whatever they can."

* * *

><p>Assassin, collectively, had no intention of changing up its plans for locating Caster's workshop. It had already analyzed the patterns of the child kidnapping in the media and planted the bait in an appropriate spot, free of any incriminating memory to spoil their plan. It had vanished from their collective senses shortly thereafter. As such, they were more or less convinced they would have Caster's workshop located by that evening, if not earlier. It all just depended on how quickly Caster's Master woke up the fresh wave of . . . materials<p>

Their Master's intense cooperation with Archer had them nervous. They were already uncomfortable with the idea that their master was a subordinate of a rival Master. Thankfully, that Archer deigned to treat them as professionals was a mark in his favor. It would have been . . . less than tolerable if he hadn't shown any respect.

That his tactics were less than conventionally heroic didn't hurt either. Assassin was familiar with heroes, and knew that for every drop of glory there was probably a fistful of self interest or corruption. It's why their order thrived in its time; no shortage of work. Archer didn't purport to be anything other than what he was.

All in all, Assassin really couldn't see itself working with any other Servant in such a fashion. So, the strange orders suggested to Kirei were followed to the letter, with some amount of professional courtesy that assumed Archer knew what he was doing.

Archer's story about his future was, of course, very relevant to Assassin. As was his assertion that the Grail was corrupt. Archer's Master had seemingly dismissed such concerns out of hand, but Kirei seemed to take Archer's word for holy writ. Apparently some of the so-called prophecy he had spewed hit a chord. Assassin had not yet taken steps to follow up on that information, but it would probably be a priority after Caster was taken care of.

Disillusionment and disappointment were two very familiar emotions for any who held the title of Old Man on the Mountain. There were usually good reasons for the assassinations they committed at the time. Politics or economics, religion or sheer practicality. Hassan was known for one thing, and the Hundred-Faced Hassan, while not 'known,' could do many things. Assassin would get to the bottom of the situation it found itself in- and if the contract for the Grail was offered on false premise, someone would pay.

Not Kirei. He was oblivious. Still, someone knew more than they were letting on. Otherwise Archer would be more open with his own Master, rather than vaguely conspiring with Kirei behind closed doors.

All in good time.

* * *

><p>Kiritsugu relaxed slightly as Lancer lept back out the window he came from holding an unconscious Kayneth. A pool of abandoned liquid mercury expanded in the hallway, never to form useful shapes again. He ignored the familiar smell of seared flesh and turned to leave.<p>

If he was correct, his moment of mortal terror when Lancer first appeared should have provoked . . .

He felt a sudden rush of wind behind him.

"Are you well, Master?"

He ignored Saber and started marching back to where Iri was waiting.

She was with Maiya, by the crystal ball. A worried frown faded into a smile when he entered the room followed by a slightly smirking Saber.

"Ah, I trust the battle went well?"

He paused.

"Everything except the end. If Kayneth had been capable of using a Command Seal, I would have died."

Saber's expression flashed between confusion, shock, apprehension, and then settled into stoic neutrality.

Iri glanced between Kiritsugu and Saber, slightly disconcerted by his monotone speech pattern and the implications of his statement. Saber's face reddened slightly. She continued.

"Ah. Well, I seem to have learned something of import while watching the battle in the forest."

Saber focused on her as Kiritsugu began disassembling his weapons and cleaning them. Maiya strugged to get up to assist, but ceased when Kiritsugu barely shook his head. Irisviel pretended not to notice. She took a breath, and made her pronouncement:

"Apparently our crimson friend is a Counter Guardian."

Kiritsugu paused in his maintenance for a fraction of a second, then resumed with a noncommittal noise. Saber's reaction was . . . less discernible.

The King of Knights hesitated, then voiced a question.

"Ah, that is usually an element of the world of Magi, is it not? I have limited experience with such ideas myself, and aside from a few mutterings by Merlin . . . "

Iri nodded slowly.

"Yes. Usually Counter Guardians, as incarnations of the Counter Force, are the world's default response to elements that get out of hand . . . " Her tone increased in formality, as if she was reading from a book, "specifically things that threaten Humanity as a whole, in this case. While Magi try to avoid its attentions, the actual Counter Guardians themselves are more often than not contracted individuals that received some sort of boon from the world in life in exchange for service after death. Despite the obvious interest Magi have in understanding their ultimate obstacle in reaching the Root, none of this changes the fact that a full incarnation of the Counter Force is untouchable and undefeatable. All the information about Counter Guardians assembled over the centuries is merely trivia in the face of the fact that no one, ever, has directly engaged the Counter Force and lived."

Saber's face was neutral up to the words 'contracted individuals,' at which point she flinched. She quickly regained her composure afterwards.

_Interesting_, Iri mused. She continued:

"While I do not have the details, I know at least a few jobs Kiritsugu did before we met involved eliminating a magus before they could do something that attracted the Counter Force. Dear, would you have any relevant information to contribute?"

Without pausing in his work, Kiritsugu grunted. While holding up a gun part to the light, he spoke.

"The Mage Association usually gave the minimum necessary information to its contractors, but they were very specific when it came to those cases. They abandoned their pride and cheerfully supplied all the warning signs of an imminent Counter Force incarnation. Any magecraft that could threaten the earth's biosphere would trigger a response before it completed, and any magecraft that would cause a chain reaction of human death would begin without incident but trigger a response after an unknown threshold was met. Normally they wouldn't care if their hired pawns lived or died, but in these cases they were very particular about telling us to retreat if certain criteria were met."

He chuckled derisively and went on:

"For the first kind, straight assassination of the rogue Magus was preferred. For the second, they recommended the extermination of humans in the area to cut the chain reaction off. Their primary concern was recovery of the research and body of the magus in question with a minimum of collateral damage. The actual human lives involved were an afterthought."

He finished reassembling the weapon.

"Ironically, by the time they responded to a given event like that, the tactics for their priorities matched the tactics for my own priorities, so we worked together without incident. Unfortunately, all of this is irrelevant to the situation at hand."

He set the gun on the table.

"All this means is Archer is weaker than the other Servants. Contracted Counter Guardians did not become legends on their own power, and as such are inferior to true Heroic Spirits." Iri noticed Saber flinch at that as Kiritsugu went on, "He has information. That much is undeniable. However, he should not be a match in combat for any other Servants save Caster and Assassin. As such, he is not a priority at this time. Lancer is. Caster will be a good distraction."

This time, when Hisau Maiya stood up, Emiya Kiritsugu did not stop her.

* * *

><p><em>End of Chapter.<em>

_Author's note 9-26-2012: Damn. Half a year. I finally gave up on finding time to spit out a whole chapter while in the zone and concentrated on spitting out bits when I could during lunch breaks at work. Those will get posted as they come to the thread on spacebattles, and whole chapters will eventually find their way here. As always, thank you for reading.  
><em>


	11. Chapter 11

Kariya limped through the dark streets of Fuyuki. He stuck to the back alleyways and tried to avoid notice. The few inevitable stragglers that caught sight of him were quickly bitten by one of the non-lethal insects and knocked out for a few hours.

The Matou Crest allowed for that much mercy, at least.

Beyond the activation of his circuits and the conversion of his life force into prana, the crest worms did indeed convey the benefits of a mundane magic crest; a series of built-in spells that allowed for the manipulation of the familiar-insects being the first among them. Further, greater mysteries were present as well, however Kariya could barely use the least ones while maintaining consciousness.

Zouken could have easily limited the crest worms in Kariya's body to those spells he thought most suitable to the Grail War, but Kariya, after some bitter reflection, realized that he did indeed seem to have access to the full and unlimited powers of the Matou Crest. Zouken hadn't even thought it worth leaving out the greater spells; after all, Kariya currently had no way of actually casting them and living through the experience.

As such, he dragged his ravaged half-corpse across the city, following the senses of one particular scout bug. He had scattered a handful of insects around to hunt for anything pertaining to the Grail War, and had stumbled upon the stink of Caster's monsters. Being spiritually-charged, the Matou familiars were extra sensitive to the otherworldly nature of the tentacled beasts, and Kariya found the fact that one of them was loose in Fuyuki . . . disturbing. It wasn't actively doing anything, but it was lurking in a bad part of town. It was a good enough lead to bother checking out; if by some miracle he encountered Caster the extra Command Seal would be his. Berserker was untouchable- this much he had determined. What little glances of insight he had gained from the rage-hazed senses he shared with his Servant amounted to the fact that never, at any point, did Berserker actively react to a 'threat.' He reacted to things, he dodged or grabbed incoming projectiles, and he went white with fury when he saw Saber . . . but at no point was anything he perceived ever considered a danger. They were just elements in his environment that he could choose how to respond to.

Finally, he was close enough to direct his more aggressive swarms around the target. This was his greatest disadvantage; he was by no means refined enough to control the bugs at the obscene distances Zouken did. If the control spells in his crest were delicate tools, then he was pounding on things with their handles. Zouken was probably laughing.

Caster was on the run; this much he surmised simply from the Church's announcement. If he wanted a chance, he had to be patient. Barring Saber's arrival, Berserker would cooperate without issue.

He collapsed against an alley wall, slid to the ground, and began to wait. In the shadows around him, small figures twitched and crawled.

* * *

><p>Archer bounded across rooftops, scanning the city with reinforced sight. Kotomine had scrambled home to once again go over the data of missing children and murdered families from the last few weeks. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Archer knew that Tokiomi was going to have questions. Big, uncomfortable questions that he didn't have the time or energy to contemplate at the moment. Right now, his sole concern was the rescue of the potential victims he had been made aware of. He found himself filling with a familiar combination of urgency and focus- something he had not done since he died. He smiled grimly as his Kotomine's words once again resonated in his soul.<p>

_Rejoice, Emiya Shirou . . ._

It was time to go to work.

* * *

><p>In a dark room underneath the Matou manor, Zouken rested his body.<p>

His mind, however, was busy directing and observing through dozens of familiars scattered in the city. He was not providing much assistance to his errant proxy, however. Rather, he was keeping a careful eye on everything, trying to discern the nature of the _wrongness_ in this Heaven's Feel.

The previous war had ended on a sour note, yet nothing particularly catastrophic had occurred. Or so it had seemed at the time. Kariya was merely an amusing distraction; that his Berserker was even more disturbingly powerful than expected was a not unwelcome bonus. That Kariya had not attempted to kill him yet, even more so.

Oh, he harbored no illusions about the chances of that actually happening. Both he and his wayward 'son' understood that Zouken was virtually impossible to kill as it was, let alone by a mere fledgling magus and a Servant with a very strong sword arm. Zouken, of course, had already considered the appropriate Command Seal manipulations he would use if he was in Kariya's place; that is, to A. Perceive the critical heart of Zouken and B. Destroy it. If he was feeling magnanimous, perhaps even B. Destroy it with as little collateral damage as possible. This last one, of course, to account for Zouken's habit of leaving his heart-worm inside other people or places away from his 'main' body.

That Kariya probably wasn't capable of reaching a state of mind to account for this was simply an investment in potential postmortem irony.

Indeed, he was far from immortal. The important part was, no one else understood the specifics of how or why. A proper exorcist from the Church could potentially end him in seconds . . . if they got a close look at Sakura. Thankfully, the Church's particular vigilance about Fuyuki made them easy to avoid, as their eyes were consistent and not overtly prying. That the Tohsakas shared a closer relationship with the Church was no concern of his, so long as it didn't interfere in the War.

Nagato was a floundering idiot, and his progeny little better. About the only great evolution in their family craft over the centuries was the very recent 'theft' of the Edelfelt Crest, and that couldn't even be credited to any particular ability they had in Magecraft. Two foolish children flirting on the battlefield, because they shared an interest in gems. How quaint. That they persisted in attempting to better themselves meant little in the face of their lack of progress.

The Einzbern . . . and by that he meant Acht, was little better. This entire ritual was a result of their failure to follow through on their own ideas, and the meddling of the Kaleidoscope. Zouken would have been a fool to pass up the opportunity. The Grail would grant him . . . would get him . . .

. . . yes. More time. All the time he needed. Enough time to accomplish . . . anything.

Immortality would be his; he just needed to be patient. For now, he needed to solve the puzzling problem with the War.

* * *

><p>Archer landed softly about two blocks from the estimated epicenter of the murders and kidnappings. It wasn't in the geographical center of the zones the crimes happened in; it was in the transportational center. Assuming the perpetrators used obvious speedy transportation to get to the crime scenes as quickly as possible, then slower, less-than-obvious means of returning to wherever they were taking the missing children (via back roads or simply walking), this particular district of Fuyuki was likely to be their base.<p>

When he heard a child scream in terror, all doubt and hesitation left his mind and he dashed towards the source, twin swords in-hand.

As he rounded the corner, split-second analysis revealed five children, in varying states of daze or panic, and a dripping, bloodied bludgeon held by . . .

Berserker?

Kanshou and Bakuya had already left his hands, arcing to separate the target from the victims. Before Berserker began the motion to drop his current weapon and reach for them, they already began to shatter and vanish.

_I am dead._

The black knight was on him almost before a replacement pair of swords were in his hands. He buckled under the force of an overhead blow, and desperately began deflecting strikes.

_He is not the fastest. He is not the strongest. My War's Berserker was faster and stronger. This doesn't matter at all, however._

He barely dodged a sideswipe. There was no opening in which to counter.

_Whoever said Berserkers fought with raw rage and instinct was full of it . . ._

The black knight leapt to the side, tore a generous length rain-gutter pipe from the side of a building, and started thrusting it forth like a spear after it blackened.

_. . . unless this guy's skill was so great that it remains with him AS mindless instinct._

There was no opportunity. Every attempt to make distance failed. Any weapon of quality he projected and launched was either dodged or deflected. Apparently Berserker had learned to not bother trying to take his projections.

_Clever guy._

All possible avenues of attack neutralized. All possible avenues of defense under a steady onslaught. Now that he had given up completely on counterattacking, he could focus on blocking and looking for an opportunity to slip away.

He had been pushed back into another alley, when a door slammed open nearby and a new high pitched voice pierced the darkness.

"Get AWAY from me you murderpervert! Why . . . don't . . . you . . . stay . . . DOWN!" A small explosion. "HA! That will teach you to- Ahhaa-eeeEK!"

Archer's blood froze. He knew that scream.

"RIN!"

Berserker had also stopped his assault and turned to the source.

Taking the mixed blessing at face value, Archer jumped up to the nearby roof and vaulted to the street below.

He expected the tiny Rin. He expected some sort of mortal danger (a purple and green tentacle around her ankle, stretching out from the entrance to the building she escaped from, judging by her bloody footprints). He did not expect Berserker landing next to him and launching his makeshift polearm to sever the offending tentacle before he could throw a sword.

In a split second judgement call, he tossed his swords to Berserker, hilts-first, and projected new ones. Black gauntlets caught them as if expecting them.

As they both moved forward, every window of the building shattered as more squid-like monstrosities burst out.

The first reaction to the rain of squidlike monsters was a blur of parries and deflections from both Servants, ensuring that not a single shard of glass landed within a meter of Rin.

Archer looked down at the fallen girl.

"Rin. RUN. Run to your father. Try to take the other children with you. GO!"

Ordered out of her daze, the Tohsaka heir got to her feet and pivoted to run- then tured back for a moment as the two knights battled on her behalf. She hesitated, then shouted out:

"At least three survivors on the first floor in the main tavern. I heard two more crying above, but they might not be savable." She bit her lip. "The murderpervert was there too." Her face went almost feral for a moment. She raised a finger at jabbed it at the second story windows. "END HIM!"

Archer could not stop the smile that came to his face._ That's my Rin._

"Understood and acknowledged." He turned to Berserker as he finished the final monster on the ground. "I'll cover the exits!"

The black knight simply launched himself to of the broken windows, contorting and passing through without even further disturbing the glass. Archer began muttering a few lines of his standard aria, and giant three-meter tall swords began to fall from the sky around the building, blocking off all routes of escape. After a second pass over the building with Structural Analysis, then the road, Archer noted the sewer-way underground, and immediately phased through the asphalt to the tunnel below. Right on time, an obscured figure with one arm dropped to the ground from a hole in the tavern's floor, and began running (at vastly less then heroic speeds) towards him.

Even as he hefted his twin blades for a blow, Archer realized something was off- wrong body temperature, wrong bone structure, wrong . . .

_Wrong everything!_

Archer hopped backwards and dismissed Kanshou and Bakuya. Empty handed, he stared the down the oncoming entity and let his mind race to choose the appropriate counter as he heard a faint scratching noise from above.

His first priority was preventing more deaths.

"**_I am the bone of my sword._**"

The man-shape skidded to a halt and almost, wavered, then turned and began to run in the opposite direction . . .

. . . when a piece of the ceiling of the tunnel _FIRED _downwards and crushed it in the blink of an eye. In its place stood Berserker, holding a . . . blackened pool cue.

Archer immediately summoned his bow and a few generic swords, firing at a few of the dozen or so tiny squidlings that had manifested from the body parts that had been sent flying from the blast in the next few seconds. He saw one 'hand' revert into a slightly larger beast, and fired at it- hearing a distinct tink of metal on metal as the arrow struck something inside it. Before he could investigate further, Berserker was already on him, one hand around his throat, slamming him back into a wall of the tunnel.

As his immediate concern was stopping the remaining monsterlings from escaping, it was with mixed feelings that he heard the unmistakable sound of small creatures dying, followed by a vaguely familiar buzzing noise. A swarm of disturbing insects flew up from that direction and hovered in front of him. As he started to weigh his escape options, a voice could be made out through the buzzing.

"If you try to phase, he will crush your throat. If ANYTHING else happens, he will crush your throat before reacting."

Archer immediately relaxed as the grip on his neck loosened just enough to allow speech. He debated trying to ping Tokiomi, but decided to not risk his attention if it wasn't already on him. He had cut off his connection as best he was able the moment he had recognized Rin's scream.

A slow, methodical shuffle came into his hearing on his left, and after waiting for the source to come into his range of vision, he laid eyes upon abomination.

* * *

><p>As Kariya limped into the Servant's field of vision, even his single remaining good eye picked up on the shift of expressions. The incorrigible smug smile (which had reappeared the moment Berserker had grabbed his neck) immediately faded, and steel-gray eyes widened in horror. Said eyes darted to the bad side of his face, then down to his torso, and widened further. Kariya spoke first.<p>

"How did you recognize that scream?"

Kariya was in agony and quickly approaching death, but he wasn't stupid. While following Berserker's vision, he had easily been able to tell the red knight was about to be crushed with little effort. The scream hadn't caused him to hesitate, but the name shouted next had.

Archer knew Rin. There were a handful of possible explanations, but what concerned Kariya most was, Archer recognized Rin's scream. Which implies he had heard her scream before. It was a minor detail to latch on to, true, but he was long past the idea of sense and restraint where those children were concerned. Any potential threat, any possible danger . . . he'd crush them all, even if his body fell apart.

The only reason Archer wasn't dead already was the slim chance that he wasn't a threat to them . . . after all, he was no threat to Berserker.

Archer coughed.

"Am I . . . talking to . . . Zouken? This . . . seems to be . . . a poorly made puppet . . . for him."

Kariya stiffened. Berserker's grip tightened and relaxed with his mental state. He could imaging the old vampire laughing at that line. He might be imagining it but some of his . . . tenants seemed to shift. The captive Servant's eyes darted up and down Kariya's corrupted side again.

"I am _not _Zouken. He is probably listening, however."

Archer seemed to blink in surprise as he reconsidered Kariya.

"What are you . . . Shinji's father? No . . . he had no magic . . ."

Kariya began trying to put the pieces together after hearing his nephew's name, and none of them seemed very good. Before he could respond, Archer's expression returned to smugness and he spoke again.

"Oy . . . bug-training . . . old fossil. Why don't you . . . give your pawn . . . a hand and call . . . the church for us? There are some . . . surviving children in . . . the building above. Tell them to . . . hurry here."

Kariya felt more stirring in his body, then stillness. He gritted his teeth and decided he had had enough.

"Answer the _question! How do you know Rin?_"

Archer dropped his smirk again.

"The fastest . . . answer is . . . **_Unlimited Blade Works_**."

Kariya's world went white.

As his vision faded back in, Kariya watched in mild horror as Berserker released Archer and bounded back into the distance behind him. A glance through his vision showed a gold and blue sword on the far horizon he had utterly focused on.

The horizon.

Kariya blinked his good eye as he took in his new surroundings. A . . . wasteland. A sword graveyard, almost. A giant set of gears in the sky.

The hero, EMIYA.

His mind filled with various details, but the important one stuck out: this hero was from the future. Or at least, became a hero in the future.

Everything quickly clicked.

He turned his gaze back down to Archer, who pointed to his left. Standing up in the dirt were five swords, each engraved with a handful of Japanese characters vertically. Kariya read them right to left.

_There were 220 worms in your body._

_17 of them reacted when I spoke to Zouken._

_Those 17 were not pulled in to this space._

_Rin Tohsaka teaches me magecraft 10 years in the future._

_I will not allow Sakura Matou to be made into a puppet again._

Kariya's overstressed heart skipped a beat. Apparently, he failed to save her. Archer broke him out of his thoughts.

"The future can be changed. In my past, a different Archer was summoned in this war instead of me. My presence here renders the 4th war's results in my history invalid."

Several swords rose from their spots and turned to point at Kariya. Berserker was still utterly focused on whatever it was he was running towards. Kariya considered his Command Seals.

"Why should I allow you to live? I sort of want to kill anyone that controls those insects, but I must say they are doing a good enough job of that on you already."

Kariya let out a hopeless laugh.

"So you want to kill Zouken? Good. I'll happily fold if you can save Sakura from him. It's the only reason I let him do this to me in the first place. Hand him the grail, free Sakura from her fate." He coughed. "Reunite her with her mother and sister, then get them away from Tokiomi."

The swords in the air froze.

"What?"

Kariya laughed again.

"What, Rin never told you? Perhaps Tokiomi influenced her too strongly before she met you. Tohsaka Sakura was given to the Matou last year so that they could have a viable heir; and so that Rin would be unchallenged for the Tohsaka crest. In just one year, Zouken has already warped her mind, body and soul.

_Tohsaka Sakura._

Archer's mind fluttered through various memories, and made connections he hadn't had the context to make in life. His focus shattered.

Unlimited Blade Works collapsed just as Berserker got within arm's reach of Archer's model of Excalibur; his gauntlet closed over thin air with a snap as he found himself back in reality.

Archer and Kariya eyed each other for a few seconds, then glanced down at the seventeen dead worms at Kariya's feet. Archer turned and took a few steps.

"I am going to go verify a few facts." He clenched a fist and released it. "If you're telling me the truth, then my priorities for this War just shifted completely." He turned back and looked Kariya up and down. "If we cooperate, I think I can heal you." He resumed his exit.

"What . . . what happened to Sakura?"

Archer stopped, but didn't turn.

"Rin and I went to destroy the Greater Grail. Zouken possessed a large number of people with insects and used them as puppets to stop us. Sakura was the strongest one."

He took a breath. His next words came in an icy tone that brooked no argument or comment.

"I was forced to kill her with my own hands." His form faded as he dematerialized.

Kariya felt Berserker's presence behind him again.

He weighed Archer's statement, and decided to take it as given.

"At least her suffering came to an end."

He turned and limped back into the tunnels.


	12. Chapter 12

Waver Velvet was living in tissue hell.

This was not a metaphor. Beside him, an overflowing wastebasket of blood-stained facial tissues stood as the primary landmark of his room. Evidence of its failure to contain its charges was present in the series of similar tissues tossed around on the floor. A new member joined their ranks, casually disposed of by the gigantic bleeding man behind him, sitting on the bed.

Alexander the Great had a small cut on his face, and his blood-flow simply would not cease. Between the two emergency tissue runs, extra loads of garbage he had disposed of, and supreme care he had to take such that his gracious old hosts wouldn't notice, the young man was almost beside himself with frustration.

He almost wanted to ignore the directive to focus on Caster, simply so he could have Rider crush Lancer and make the bleeding stop.

But, that would be suicide. He was better than that. His alchemical sleuthing had borne fruit, and they were almost ready to go . . . if not for the bleeding. While Rider had no real problems with letting the wound flow free while he was in 'battle mode,' Waver was just a bit too pragmatic to want to be spilling his Servant's blood everywhere, after all.

He had been pacing around his room considering his options when his foot slipped on an errant Kleenex and he fell on his ass. Mumbling in pain, he caught Rider's eye.

"Show more respect, boy! That's the blood of a king you're trodding on! Ha!"

At last, his temper snapped.

Waver stood up, and silently picked up a few of the sanguine objects. He went over to his alchemy set and started to work.

Rider, curious as to his Master's lack of outraged mewling, raised an eyebrow and watched. The boy had proven himself as an alchemist with the river samples, so whatever he was doing was probably going to be interesting, at least.

Waver tore off some of the blood soaked fabric and dropped it into a flask. Muttering to himself, he fought off the urge to wince as he activated his Magic Circuits. He concentrated, and poured prana into the flask.

Rider, still waiting for a result, idly scratched an itch on his scalp with his free hand. This eventually escalated to scratching an arm, then his chest. Within a few more seconds he was itching all over his body and could not scratch fast enough.

Not a fool, he vocalized his feelings.

"Oy, brat, what is the meaning of this?! Do I have to give you another knock on th- oy!"

Waver had turned at the diatribe and glared for a moment before going back to his casting. Blood was streaming from his nose, and Rider could faintly detect the ever-unwelcome smell of seared flesh.

"Oy, boy, you've made your point!"

The itching stopped. Waver let out a breath, and shuddered in pain.

Rider reached out tentatively but drew back as Waver stood and whirled on him.

"Do you GET IT now? I am an AMATEUR! A few drops of blood, and I made you ITCH! If Caster got your blood he could probably make you explode! Lord El-Melloi . . . would probably make your dick rot off or something."

"Really?"

"Really. It's not difficult, it's just a matter of time, prana, and deftness with curses. Blood is the ultimate arcane link, after all. Only an ID-I-OT would leave it spattered around somewhere. Especially this phantasmal Ghost-Liner blood stuff. I don't even want to know what kind of extra ectoplasmic resonance once could achieve with the proper thaumaturgy . . ."

Rider shook his head ruefully as Waver ranted on. The boy was right; he was on a playing field with magi. That the boy felt it necessary to harm himself in making his point only hammered home how serious he was taking this whole War. His success in bypassing Rider's admittedly meager D rank in Magic Resistance was nothing to sneer at, either.

He tossed his current tissue aside and reached for a new one. Dabbing on his cheek, he considered their options with the full brunt of his tactical mind, and smiled.

[***]

Waver followed Rider as he marched into town on a mission. He mentally reviewed the previous day to try to figure out where he had lost his sanity. The initial night after the wound had been mildly annoying, but when he had gone to buy proper bandages Rider, in an utterly unlikely event, had stopped him.

"Miraculous as this age's medical technology is, buying enough of this cottonstuff to dress and redress this little flesh wound will be suspicious in this peaceful place. The bleeding will not cease. Better to use something no one will think twice of in this season if bartered for en masse."

Waver was so gobsmacked by the restraint that he had complied without question, and got massive amounts of tissues instead. At the shopkeep's raised eyebrow, he had simply sheepishly shrugged and said "allergies." Nodding sagely, the shopkeep rang him up and wished his family good health.

This time, however, Alexander was back to his old unstoppable self. He led Waver directly to a hardware store and walked inside.

Waver was dreading whatever it was that was about to happen, when Rider stopped. Crashing into the giant man and regaining his footing, the boy looked at the shelves around them.

"So, boy, I was thinking. If this is a cursed wound, never to heal, then is it not more like a leaking pipe than an ailment of the flesh? This wonderful society has tools with which to fix everything!"

He reached out to one of the many rolls of tape, a thick silvery one.

"Why bother with the healing arts when the plumbing arts are more applicable!"

Ten minutes later Rider was marching down the sidewalk with a big piece of tape on his cheek, Waver in tow.

"What is the matter, partner? You don't seem very energetic!"

Waver gave a long suffering sigh.

"I can't reconcile the genius and the stupidity. My stupidity. It feels terrible to be outwitted by you."

"Ha! Worry not then! Your demonstration with my blood gave me another idea. Don't take this the wrong way, but after our next skirmish I would grant you the honor of cleaning my blade!"

Waver started to retort, then realized what Rider meant.

"Hmm. Well, that's only if you fail to kill them after the first skirmish. Far be it from my Servant to actually _expect _to fail once."

Alexander blinked, then burst out laughing and slapped Waver on the back. After getting up and brushing himself off, Waver resumed walking, a small smile lodged on his face.

"Well, Master, if you would carry our spoils to home, I have a tad more shopping to do. I had an idea while fetching your river water, and it will not be denied!" The hero suddenly changed directions and waved as he departed.

"Sure, sure, whatever, don't accidentally conquer the town."

Earlier, the previous night, Archer had mentally steeled himself and headed back to his Master's home. This confrontation was inevitable, and how it played out would color his ability to act for the rest of the War.

Before his meeting with the Matou, he hadn't particularly cared too much about the War itself, beyond preventing the Great Fire. His worries there were minimized mostly because Gilgamesh wasn't on the board, and he was ostensibly the other final survivor of his 4th War. Recent revelations completely redrew his priorities, however.

As he approached the Tohsaka estate, he began drawing on prana and whispering his incantation. One way or another, all secrets were going to be revealed and he'd be forced to show his hand, either in combat or demonstration. What everything edged on was how different Tokiomi was from Rin.

The time for the encounter was NOW, just after he saved Rin's life. Tokiomi would be as positively inclined as he was going to get. The only wildcard was Risei.

He entered via the appropriate path and materialized in the hallway outside the study. He knocked.

"Enter."

Opening the door, he took in Tokiomi on his chair with wine, and a distinct lack of Risei. His relief lasted only for a few seconds.

"_See, Tokiomi? Just as I told you. You need to listen to me more often, old friend._"

What appeared to be a fancy jeweled sculpture emitted sound, and on closer inspection showed a faint image of the priest's face in its facets.

_Magical Videoconferencing. Wonderful_.

"_Now, just as we discussed._"

Tokiomi nodded.

"Archer," he began, "What is your true name?"

Archer felt the compulsion to answer. Just before it bubbled off his tongue, he verified his suspicions. Tokiomi's free hand was just out of sight over the arm of the chair. A jewel was probably in it. Risei could have been present, but deemed it too risky. All in all, well planned. There was indeed a bounded field around the chair. Limited, set to react to sudden force or prana intrusion. It wouldn't STOP him, but it would delay him a second or two.

Plenty of time for a suicidal seal-backed Command.

He chuckled, smirked, and shrugged. His internal surrender to the command seal already decided, he used every considerable scrap of willpower he had to make it LOOK like he was simply choosing to answer on his own time. His expression suddenly went serious.

"Emiya Shirou, Master, at your service." He gave a western deep bow with his left arm crossed over his chest, then glanced up.

Tokiomi's hand twitched but otherwise he did not react. Risei had gone silent, digesting the information along with his earlier story.

After a few more seconds, he rose. The smirk returned.

"Is there a problem?"

[***]

Tokiomi was frozen with indecision.

_Emiya._

Or, more properly, The Hero _EMIYA_.

Legend aside, power aside, everything else aside, this Servant was connected to the man Kirei was so concerned about. The agent for the Einsberns. The Magus Killer. While he had personally scoffed at such a designation, the fact that someone that man had touched ascended to the Throne long past the end of the Age of Gods caused him to reevaluate . . .

. . .frankly, everything.

"Are you-"

"I am the adopted son of Emiya Kiritsugu, rescued by him from the Great Fire of Fuyuki City from the wake of the Fourth Heaven's Feel."

His _SON_. Tokiomi took in the breath that would fuel his Command Seal. Before he could finish, Risei interjected.

"_Why didn't you kill us?_"

Tokiomi paused.

"I have no loyalty owed this Emiya Kiritsugu. He contributed to the Fire in my history. While I would prefer he not be killed, I will do so if that is what it takes to save the lives I am protecting. As he shares this similarity to me, if he can be convinced of the problem in the Grail before the end, he will perhaps not command Saber to destroy it."

Destroy it.

The Grail. In reach, but instead of sacrificing the Servant at the end . . .

Tokiomi slumped, ever so slightly, and let out a sigh.

"The irony is exquisite, isn't it, Risei?"

"_Indeed._"

But then one other tiny detail stuck in his mind. He voiced it:

"If you were adopted by Emiya after this war, then that means . . ?"

"Yes. A young version of myself is alive and running around the city somewhere right now, probably."

Tokiomi took a moment to ponder this. _A boy with the proven potential to become a heroic spirit. A spirit that . . . wait a moment. _He sucked in air through his teeth, a terribly inelegant habit he had abandoned under dire threat from his own mother when he was not quite yet an adult.

"If I did not survive, and you fought in the Fifth War?"

"Very good, Master. I fought in the Fifth War as the Master of Saber, using the same catalyst my father did- though completely by accident."

Accidental Master status. The pieces were quickly falling into place.

"_Archer. If you were raised in Fuyuki, where did you learn Magecraft?_"

An astute question. Tokiomi waited. They were beyond using compulsion now.

"I was initially taught the absolute basics by my father. Nothing particularly impressive, just structural analysis and reinforcement. I also learned a fun method to convert my body's nerves into makeshift circuits."

Tokiomi blanched.

"That was exactly the expression Rin had when I told her."

Rin.

"We allied early on in the Fifth War, and she took pity on my sorry amateur self and taught me what she could in the time we had during the war."

"She didn't defeat you?"

"Actually my Saber cut her Archer almost in half the moment we met that night. She had all but forfeited the War at that point, her pride aside. As I had no real wish other than to stop the fighting, I had no problem with giving the Grail to her if I won."

Tokiomi raised a hand to stop him while taking a deep sip of wine with the other. This had already caused him to lapse in elegance. He would at least prevent any further loss of decorum by being emotionally unprepared. He lowered his hand and spoke again.

"So when you said you were trained in Orthodox Magecraft, you actually meant my daughter was your instructor?"

"Indeed. As your Master-connection to the Grail should have already informed you, she did good work."

"_Tokiomi? What does he mean?_"

Closing his eyes, Tokiomi dove into the profile of his Servant's power he had unlocked. The basics he had already reviewed, but the Noble Phantasm . . .

Phantasm? No. This was-

Archer opened his connection to his Master back up in full.

Tokiomi's eyes shot open as he _felt _the raw power his Servant had been holding active in his Magic Circuits resonate though the connection. Total energy aside, ANY magus that left their circuits full to capacity without using that power would be in unbearable agony. He met Archer's gaze.

"_Tokiomi? Archer?"_

"**_Unlimited Blade Works._**"

A hill of swords.

Smog wafted in his nose as the Reality Marble unfolded before him. Gargantuan gears slowly turned in the sky. A graveyard of bladed tombstones stretched to every horizon. Tokiomi, now standing, turned to his Servant who stood next to him.

"You achieved this?"

"While I was alive. This is not a gift of the Grail. This is my single personal spell and legacy. As one career magus to another, I trust you can appreciate it?"

Tokiomi frowned and looked again at the scene before him. He recalled Archer's earlier comment about his Origin and Element.

"Sword and sword, was it?"

Emiya nodded.

"When I use Gradiation Air, I do not make swords. I pull them from this place."

With a lazy arm motion, Archer caused thousands of blades to lift into the air and float by, single file.

"Every sword I ever see, even for one instant, is recorded here. This place holds not just the swords, but the ingredients and tools needed to recreate each one perfectly. I copy their materials AND their experiences. Their legends as well. Finally, I can freely modify them as I see fit."

A spiraled sword floated by.

"Caladbolg II. A custom take on a quite potent legend. You saw what it did."

"Indeed."

Without any warning, the Reality Marble collapsed and they were back in Tokiomi's study.

"No need to waste any more prana on a demonstration."

"_Are you two back? I was about to summon Kirei to see what had happened._"

"We're fine, Risei. Archer was just giving me a demonstration."

"_If you say so, Tokiomi_."

Archer coughed quietly before speaking again.

"In any case, my power can best be summed up as such: I do not create swords. I create a world that contains infinite swords. My singular tiny drop of potential, refined and practiced until it reached the peak of possible Magecraft."

Tokiomi was properly awed. Such dedication that could reach this far was only one short step from the Root. Never mind the path he had walked with the power; he had come closer than most to the proper Magus's goal.

While waiting for Tokiomi to reply, Archer tactfully didn't mention the fact that he had bargained for the last bit of his ability.

"Quite impressive. How did you avoid a Sealing Designation?"

"Minimal interaction with the Clock Tower, aside from a couple close friends. Rin was of the view that betraying her student to the Association would be . . . inelegant."

Tokiomi did not flinch.

"So it could be seen."

"So, to sum up, my only personal objectives in this War are to prevent as many innocent people from dying and suffering as possible. If earning the Grail in the process happens, so much the better. Given the temperament of the other participants, this will probably be the most likely outcome. Where things get sticky are other things I only recently learned." His permanent smirk faded.

"Oh?"

"Tohsaka Tokiomi. I want you to tell me, to the best of your knowledge, what you think has happened to, and is happening to my dear old friend Matou Sakura right now."

[***]

Tokiomi was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was no longer in his warded circle. Taking it in stride, he turned to face Archer fully and met the Servant's eyes.

Cold, and steel-gray, they regarded him neutrally.

The truth as best he knew it, then.

"Sakura was given into the care of our allied family the Matou a year ago so as to eliminate conflict over the inheritance of the Tohsaka crest, and to prevent other opportunistic members of the Association from taking advantage of her. It is my hope that as the Matou heir she will become as formidable and respectable as my own daughter, and that even if one is to fall at the hands of the other one day, it will do naught but strengthen the line and reputation of both families."

The Servant did not react or respond. Tokiomi held his gaze without flinching.

Archer nodded, then asked "And as far as you are aware, she was to become the Matou heir?"

Tokiomi's composure didn't break externally, but mentally he slowly started to spin with possibilities.

"_Tokiomi, hold a moment. Archer, please be clear. Exactly what are you implying?_" The old priest was a master of manipulation and semantics, and he could see his friend being played as clear as day. The dramatic pace of the supposed revelation would only play into the ever-more-crafty Servant's hands. That Tokiomi was no longer completely safe inside the wards was reason enough for him to covertly send Kirei back to Tokiomi's side. He was not present initially because on the chance Archer decided to try to breach the wards with brute magical force, the blowback would probably have killed Kirei, his own Servant's presence irrelevant. Now that Archer's most likely attack on Tokiomi was a direct blade strike, it was much less dangerous to send Kirei in.

Less dangerous in the sense that if Archer DID decide to kill them all, Kirei might be able to divert him for the precious second needed for Tokiomi to use his Command Seal.

In any case, Archer's pacing needed to be thrown off and Tokiomi needed to regain his clear head. His friend was usually immaculately composed, but the tsunami of information was not doing him any favors. Hopefully he could wrestle control of the conversation away from Archer, if only for a moment.

"Ah. Father Kotomine, my apologies. I was just trying to see how much my Master knew about his daughter's fate. Apparently the answer is virtually nothing."

"_Oh? And you would once again take the role of Prophet for us?_"

Archer smirked and internally applauded the wily old man's tactic. Anything and everything to soften the blow. Risei readied himself for the next deflection, almost eagerly. Neither man noticed the sweat beading on Tokiomi's face as he considered his next words. Archer heedlessly continued.

"Well, if I am going to be dropping wisdom of the future, I might as well have an appropriate job title. I even wound up dying for the sake of others, so I might actually have a fitting resume. As for Sakura, I'll just say-"

"You killed her with your own hands."

Dead silence.

Tokiomi's eyes were closed, and his breathing was mildly audible. His wineglass was no longer in his hand, and that hand was now rubbing his forehead. When no one contradicted him, he continued.

"She became a puppet, a hollow shell, and you took advantage of the last scraps of humanity in her heart to manipulate her into letting her guard down such that you could finish her. You saved the city- no, more likely the entire world, if I have been reading you right."

Before Risei could interject, Archer nodded. _The dreams. Has to be. But in that case . . . uh oh._ He replied.

"Yes. That is exactly what happened."

"So am I to understand that in no way was Sakura actually in control of her fate?"

"She was Zouken's puppet until the end. Afterwards we discovered she had been remade into a breeding ground for the . . . Crest Worms and used as a central command and control point. Apparently pieces of the remains of the Fourth Grail had been grafted into her to enhance her abilities in this."

Tokiomi did not respond. Archer continued on in a monotone.

"In hindsight, it became obvious that she was raised and conditioned to accept any and all obligations Zouken placed on her without question, without resistance, and without hope. She was mentally sculpted such that at any time after she was 'ready,' she could be broken the rest of the way and used as he saw fit." Such was the conclusion he had reached after he had slain her but before his fallout with Rin. Better that she not realize the fully magnitude of what had happened to the girl she had assumed was raised much like herself their whole lives.

"Is that all?"

Archer considered carefully.

"This last night I was made aware that Sakura's conditioning was not some late-stage play by Zouken in his desperation to preserve the Grail ritual. It began the moment you gave Sakura into his custody, and apparently was continuous throughout the rest of her life. That I had never realized it during our time as schoolmates speaks for the delicate balance her mental state was in that whole time."

"And you gained this knowledge, how?"

"I encountered Matou Kariya, master of Berserker. He has sold his body and remaining life to Zouken, on the condition that if he delivers the grail, Zouken will let Sakura go free."

Tokiomi let the name roll over him, and through him. Kariya. That chapter of his life had ended long ago, with his winning of Aoi's hand and his former friend's unsightly rejection of – well, everything that mattered in his subsequent flight from Fuyuki. Or so he had convinced himself to think.

Tokiomi tried to imagine Kariya approaching him earlier today out of the blue and explaining the circumstances Sakura was in truthfully. He didn't see it going well- for Kariya, that is.

Archer's faux pas in speaking with an enemy Master could be forgiven, in this case; especially if that Berserker hadn't killed him. His personal connection to Sakura granted that much leeway, at least.

Risei remained silent. His thoughts on the matter were his own for the moment, and whatever resistance he had to Archer controlling the conversation was as dust on the wind.

"Well, Master, may I assume that our Mexican standoff is now over? You look like you need to sit down."

Tokiomi shook his head slowly. Blinking, he considered the Servant again, then waved a hand carelessly in his direction.

"Of course. That said, no time to rest, there are things I need to verify. Things I need to consider." Tokiomi stood up and headed for the door. Just before reaching it, he stopped. "Risei, send Kirei to me in the workshop please. Archer . . . everything else aside, there is one thing you should be very aware of."

Emiya tilted his head slightly. _This'll be good._

"Oh?"

"If I ever do decide to kill you, in honor of your accomplishments and tutelage, it shall be by the command: 'Drown in your ideals and die.' I hope you find it to your satisfaction."

He didn't turn to look before resuming his exit from the room.

Archer recovered from his flinch, then began to chuckle as he followed his Master out.

[*****]

Kirei only heard the end of the conversation after Archer and Tokiomi reappeared. It was enough. Archer was, at this point, acting as less of a Counter Guardian or Heroic Spirit at this point and more of a vengeful ghost. He had regrets from his life, and had a chance to unravel the factors that led to them here, before his destiny ever became manifest.

The Church had rather specific things to say about the spirits of the dead and their desires; that such dead were usually Dead Apostles running rampant across the countryside was a side detail, usually.

That said, he found himself amused by the idea that the Grail was destroyed. Yes, Emiya Kiritsugu was a mystery to him before the War, but Archer had splashed some cold water on his fantasies of finally finding someone like himself. That Emiya Kiritsugu had such a simple and childish wish and was yet forced to sacrifice that which he was fighting for . . . after discovering it was tainted, no less? The look on his face must have been something.

Destroying the grail himself once he won it, even if it had not been tainted, was an idea he might have entertained if he had judged the artifact as an abomination or otherwise unfit for Tokiomi. The chances of that occurring were . . . greater than zero, still. Perhaps his own skills could be of use in purifying the artifact? Well, not to think too highly of himself, but he had confidence in his spiritual manipulation skills. The sheer magnitude of the Grail as it had been described to him was another matter entirely.

It would probably require the cooperation of all three founding families to manage. That there was currently a truce on while everyone hunted Caster was convenient; it was likely said truce would be extended if everything went smoothly from this point forward.

Once Kirei entered Tokiomi's workshop after Archer, Tokiomi turned to him.

"Kirei. Have an Assassin make contact with Matou Zouken, and the Einzbern faction if possible. Tell them I would like to speak with them regarding a problem with the Grail. It goes without saying that Kariya and Berserker should be avoided for now."

"Understood," Kirei glanced to the side for a moment. "It will be done."

Kirei also did a quick cycle through the vision of all the Assassins. Two were missing.

_Assassin? Did we lose a second body?_

_. . . We will explain when you have some privacy, Master. We think we are about to locate Caster using a gambit._

_Very well._

Kirei watched as Archer explained a few more details and answered questions from both Tokiomi and Risei. The more he heard about the nature of the manifestation of the taint in the Grail, the more worried he became about his own part in the events of that alternate future. Depending on a few details Archer had not gone over, it sounded as if the shadowy presence had more or less fully manifested in the Matou girl before she met her end; a being with malice but no will. The girl had been turned into an empty vessel to channel it, but for no clear purpose.

He tried to use what little he knew of the Matou art (and it was more than most, given that over the years Tokiomi had shared with him all he was aware of) to discern what Zouken could have hoped to gain with his maneuvers, but he kept coming up short. He was missing too much information. His time doing the dirty work of the Church had exposed him to numerous magi of questionable to nonexistent moral caliber, and at the very least each and every one had some concrete motive when committing their atrocities.

The girl was being 'trained' at this time, before the shattered grail ever became a factor. But it was not real training. The more Archer described his battles with Zouken's full complement of worms and possessed pawns, the more certain Kirei became that the man was both insane and easy to vanquish.

Easy for an Executor of the Church, at least. Archer's sterile recitation of the facts of the encounters demonstrated his lack of specialized holy tools and knowledge at the time; he had apparently made a fine showing regardless.

After the Servant finished, Tokiomi bade them both to leave. Kirei exited first, followed by Archer. They made their way to the dining room without comment, then Kirei spoke up first.

"Archer. Do you have any weapons similar in functionality to Black Keys?"

A smirk, and a set of three narrow blades appeared between bronzed fingers.

Kirei nodded.

"Ah, Kirei, if you were offering, I wouldn't mind seeing yours."

Kirei saw no reason not to produce one of his own and hand it to Archer.

The Servant gazed at it for a while, and asked an unexpected question.

"Can I see the ones you use the most? Or have used the most? In fact, a look at all of them would help best."

Kotomine drew and arrayed his entire complement of Keys on the table, wondering what Archer gained from it.

"Perfect. These were made by you, and those three were used and passed around quite a bit before entering your hands. These six you have used the most recently, and you tend to throw those five first. I assume you have more that you threw that were lost, but these have been recovered often."

Kirei heard nothing he needed to correct.

"As you might have intuited, I can glean information from bladed weapons. The more experience a sword has against something similar to what I am probably going to be fighting, the more I gain from seeing it. Normally I would have little to gain from modern blades, but for certain parties I can make an exception."

After reclaiming his weapons, Kirei excused himself and went to find a private location such that Assassin could debrief him on what progress they had made with Caster.

Archer went out into the city again shortly thereafter, not quite sure how to feel about what he had set in motion. Tokiomi was planning _something_, and even after all the information he had bombarded the man with, he was still unsure as to his current thoughts.

At least he had apparently earned some degree of personal respect. While normally, classical magi were less than respectful of magecraft put to practical use, that he had achieved a Reality Marble more or less quelled any issues they had with his lack of actual intent to approach the Root. That during his life he would have been used as a laboratory animal if they had had the opportunity didn't matter; his status as Tokiomi's daughter's student was something of a bonus in that regard. His master would be slightly more hesitant to dispose of his (alternate) daughter's work.

Kotomine was another matter entirely. The young man had still shown none of the abject, grinning malice he remembered. He still didn't have all the pieces of what occurred in his personal history. Gilgamesh was infatuated with Saber, and apparently had been summoned by Tokiomi. Kirei had betrayed Tokiomi and taken his Servant, apparently. What would cause that arrogant ancient hero to let such a slight pass? He would have just as soon killed Tokiomi himself, would he not have?

These and similar worries froze in Archer's mind as he stopped mid-stride. He was near an open-air market by the docks, where a number of freshly arrived bits of cargo were being sold. All his personal worries evaporated as he noticed an evil that was about to occur. He donned the mantle of an Ally of Justice and marched forward to right the wrong in front of him once again.

Rider had almost bargained down the price of the wine barrel to what seemed an acceptable sum when a sharply dressed man slipped out of the crowd to his side.

"Rider, what the hell are you doing?"

Rider turned to look at the newcomer in confusion for a moment, then brightened.

"Archer! I didn't recognize you in that slick modern getup! Ah, I am about to purchase the wine for my banquet with Saber. I plan to discuss the nature of kings with that one."

Archer coolly looked over the barrel Rider held over one shoulder.

"That wine is terrible, Rider."

The dock merchant's expression froze as the would-be sommelier ruined his transaction.

"If you're going to serve alcohol fit for a king, you'd do better to purchase some of the local fare. Any wine you'd buy barreled off a ship will be overpriced and under-quality; any foreign spirits worth drinking come here bottled, not barreled. This swill was probably sent here to become vinegar."

Rider considered that for a moment, and set the barrel down.

"I'll take your advice, Archer. Might you have the time to help a tourist select something worthy of the Kings of Knights and Conquerors?"

Archer smirked.

"Sure, why not. What food were you planning to serve with it?"

Rider blinked.

"Food? I was just planning to drink!"

Archer's mind reeled at the idea of Saber drunk on an empty stomach. Then at the idea of Saber _sober _on an empty stomach. Then on Saber eating whatever food Kiritsugu had prepared.

He shook his head and began walking. Rider followed.

"Rider, you do not want to deal with a hungry Saber. Whatever words you have for her will break like waves over a rocky coast. However, you are in luck."

"Oh?"

"I can guarantee, on my word as a chef, what food that little king will appreciate most."

"A chef? Not a knight?"

Archer chuckled.

"I took pride in my food long before I first held a sword. Pride enough to serve a king."

"Big words. Well then, it's decided!"

Archer glanced up at the larger man.

"If you would be willing, I'd have you prepare a feast!"

Archer let the absurdity of the request wash over him, and through him, and then realized he'd get to cook for Saber again.

"You have a deal. What's your budget?"

Rider named a figure, and Archer suddenly felt very sorry for the young future Lord El-Melloi II.


End file.
